Johanna's Story
by Jethro25
Summary: Basically a X-over between Castle & NCIS, but with some appearances from the characters of Bones & Burn Notice. The third part in my ongoing NCIS storyline, after Long Lie NCIS & Convergence NCIS, Bones, Criminal Minds. Recently moved from X-over section.
1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I expect that this story will run somewhere in the neighborhood of 25-30 chapters. The first 14 have been completed. Some of the early chapters are fairly short. I'll post a chapter every day or two. This story is the third in my NCIS series, where Kate is still alive & has rejoined her team, following the Long Lie and Convergence. The story is mainly a crossover story between NCIS & Castle. There are some minor appearances from the folks at Bones, and the folks at Burn Notice, and a short (one sentence) shout-out to 24. Mostly a Case Fic, though there is plenty of character development in there as well. I'd like to thank my friend & roommate JMAC for his ideas, & for being a sounding board for me on this story. Any mistakes found within are mine & mine alone. As always with one of my stories, comments and criticisms are appreciated equally. I hope you enjoy, G

**JOHANNA'S STORY**

**CHAPTER ONE – A Body in the Sewer**

Kate Beckett was enjoying her first quiet day off in more than three weeks. She was in the tub, a hot bubble bath, her long legs stretched out as far as she could manage, her head tilted back against the edge, eyes closed, a Chopin piano concerto playing softly in the background, her shoulder length auburn hair pinned up, and a glass of pinot noir on the stool nearby. Next to the wine was a hardcover book. She'd decided to re-read some of Castle's earlier works, in this case _Storm Season_, applying her new insight, gained from their recent partnership, to see if she might notice things she'd missed in earlier reads.

The man had a way of making her absolutely crazy, and yet making her feel totally safe and warm at the same time. He'd been working with her team for over a year now, and she still couldn't figure out how he managed that particular trick. Hell, she could barely figure him out at all. Not what made him tick, not what he was thinking most of the time, not why he was still sticking around. He was halfway through with _Summer Heat_, the second Nikki Heat novel. He surely didn't really need to follow her around for more inspiration on the character. He had to have a handle on Nikki Heat by now.

On the other hand, she had a few suspicions about why he might be hanging around. He made no secret of the fact that he found her attractive. _Extraordinary_, the small voice in the back of her mind supplied. _In his dedication for Heat Wave he called you extraordinary_. No man had ever used that word to describe her before. Pretty, beautiful, smart, gorgeous, tough, sure, she'd heard all of those before, but never _extraordinary_.

Most of the time she was able to resist his charms, but there were moments that she was close, extremely close sometimes, to giving in to the feelings he'd awoken in her. She'd pretty much buried her heart after Will had left for Boston. In the ten years since her mother's death, she'd ever only given her heart to him, and then he'd left. Since then, the only man who'd come close was Castle.

She shook her head to clear her mind. She'd had enough of thinking about this, about him. She reached for the pinot and took a good-sized sip. Setting the glass back down, she started to reach for _Storm Season_ when her cell started ringing in the other room.

"Damn!" she said, under her breath. She took a deep breath, letting it ring once again, before levering herself up, stepping out of the tub and wrapping herself in a large towel. She padded, on damp, bare feet into the next room and scooped up the annoying phone, flipping it open. "Beckett," she said.

"Hey Boss," Esposito said. "We caught a body."

"Why isn't Reynolds' team handling it?" Kate asked. "They've got the duty today."

"They already got two others today," Esposito said. "Captain said we should take this one. He said it has your name all over it anyway."

"Alright," she said. "Where?"

"Corner of fifty-third and Market, there's a sewer grate. Body is in the sewer underneath."

"The sewer?"

"Yup," Esposito confirmed. "DPW crew found it about half an hour ago. Ryan and I are leaving now. Lanie's already on her way. You want me to call Castle?"

"No," Kate said, dropping the towel to the floor and walking toward her bedroom. "I'll get changed, call him and pick him up."

"You got it," he said.

"See you in twenty," she said, cutting the connection and hitting her speed dial for Castle as she pulled a pair of jeans from a drawer and tossing them on the bed. It was gonna be an interesting day.


	2. Chapter 2

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Decided to post the 1st 2 chapters together since Chapter 1 was so short. Enjoy, G

**CHAPTER TWO – This Body is a Mess**

Beckett and Castle pulled up to the curb at the corner of Fifty-third and Market, Beckett pulling her department Crown Vic up so that the front bumper was within inches of scraping the rear bumper of Esposito & Ryan's car. The morgue van

was a bit further up.

Castle was out the door almost before she had managed to put the car in park.

"Take it easy Castle," Beckett said, following him at a more stately pace. "I'm pretty sure the body's not going anywhere."

"This is soooo cool," Castle replied, peering down the open sewer grate. "I can't believe there's a body down there." As he started to climb down into the grate, a uniformed officer started to intercede, until Beckett waved him off.

"If we search the whole thing, we'll probably find a few more," Beckett said.

"Are you gonna do that?" Castle asked. "Seems like it would take a while." His voice drifted up out the hole in the street.

"Not unless I find a reason to, you overenthusiastic nutjob," Kate said, shaking her head as she began her own climb downward.

Once down below, it was a short, and unpleasant walk to the scene. Kate held one end of her scarf over her nose and mouth to block some of the foul smell. Esposito was talking to a pair of DPW workers off to one side while Lanie did a visual examination of the body. Ryan was taking photographs. A pair of lab techs stood off to one side, waiting for instructions to move the body, not that there was much of a body left.

"Whoa," Castle said, as they walked up, "he looks like he could use a good meal."

"Very funny, Castle," Lanie said. The body was little more than half a skeleton. The bones of one leg were missing, as was a hand, and the skull. The rest seemed to have gotten caught up on some sort of grate. Needless to say, the bones were filthy and discolored.

"What can you tell me, Lanie?" Beckett asked.

"Not much down here," her friend replied. "This body is a mess. I might get something when we get him back to the morgue, but there's not a lot left to work with."

"Not much chance of getting an ID through dental records," Ryan said, pointing to the spot on the body where the missing skull should be.

"I always wondered about that," Castle said. "If you don't know who **he** is, how would you know who his dentist was?"

Beckett just shook her head and chuckled. "Looks like the CSU guys are going to get a chance to search around down here for a few days after all," she said, causing the two guys nearby to wince. "With any luck they'll find the missing parts."

"Maybe," Lanie said, "but I wouldn't get my hopes up if I were you."

"When you finish up here," Kate said to Ryan, "meet us back at the precinct."

"Can we go home and shower first?" Esposito asked, rejoining the rest of the team.

"Please do," Kate answered. "I know I intend to." She cocked her head toward the two DPW guys. "They give you anything useful?"

"Nah," Esposito answered. "Routine maintenance check. They're doing some work down here in a few weeks and these two guys drew the detail to check the area for any structural problems ahead of time. They just stumbled across Skeletor over there, called us."

"Come on Castle," Beckett said as she started back toward the ladder topside.

Two hours later Beckett and Castle, freshly washed and changed, came through the doors into Lanie's autopsy suite. "Anything you can tell me yet, Lanie?" Beckett asked.

"Not much," Lanie said. "And it doesn't seem like I'm gonna get a whole lot more, either." Beckett grimaced. Castle, for once, remained quiet. "There's just not much there for me to work with."

"What about time of death?" Beckett asked.

"Best I can do is give you a real rough estimate," Lanie said, "and that's based on all the sludge caked on the bones."

"Better than nothing," Kate said.

"Not much better," Lanie said. "I'd say he's been down there somewhere between seven and twelve years."

"Years?!" Castle said, an incredulous tone to his voice.

"That's a pretty big window," Kate said.

"Sorry," from Lanie. "The amount of sludge depends on the level of the sewer, how much the body was covered, how much was exposed, and for how long. Apparently DPW doesn't keep records on that as assiduously as you might like."

"What about DNA?" Castle asked, cutting off Beckett. From the look on her face, Lanie guessed that she'd been about to ask the same question.

"Maybe," Lanie said. "There's no flesh left, and the head is gone, so no hair to work with." She paused for a moment, then added, "I'll try to take a sample of bone marrow, but don't get your hopes up. The saturation of the bones in that sludge for so long might make it difficult."

"Do your best, Lanie," Beckett said. "If you can find anything, we'll move forward. If not, it won't be the first unsolved death in this city."

"Don't you mean, unsolved murder?" Castle asked.

"Why assume it's murder, Castle?" Beckett asked.

"The guy's head is missing," Castle said. "Does that happen often without murder?"

"Doesn't happen all that often with murder," she responded with a saucy smile, "except in some hack writer's books."

"Okay," Castle said, holding up his hands in a defensive gesture, "so _Storm's Trial_ wasn't my best work." Lanie suppressed a chuckle. "Wait a minute, did you just call me a hack?!"

"Didn't someone also lose their head in _Fury of the Storm_?" Kate asked, her voice just a little too innocent, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Ye-es," Castle said, his voice drawing the word out until it was two syllables. "But that wasn't a truly major plot point."

"I know, Castle," Kate said. "I've read them both."

"Yeah, you have," Castle said with a big grin, his voice now essentially a deep purr, causing Lanie to chuckle again.

"In this case, I think it was just the natural course of things down there," Lanie said. "There are no signs of traumatic separation on the bones we have. I think the skeleton just came apart with the flow of the sewer, over time."

Castle looked a little disappointed. "So, no murder then."

"Too early to say one way or the other," Lanie said. "I'll try to find something, but if I were you, I wouldn't hold my breath."

"You know," Castle said, his face lighting up, "I know someone who might be able to help."

Beckett looked skeptical. "Are you talking about your friend, Dr. Murray?"

"No." Castle smirked a bit, "Murray's good, but bones aren't his specialty. There's this woman who writes for my publisher, Temperence Brennan."

"_Bred in the Bone_," Lanie said. "I loved that book."

"And she's one of the foremost forensic anthropologists in the country," Beckett said. She looked at Lanie, as though wondering if her friend might be hurt by the suggestion.

"Don't give me that look, girl," Lanie said. "I'm good, but that woman is a specialist in this field. Maybe the best there is. If we can get her in here, our chances of finding something triple, at least."

"I talked to her at a party my publisher threw a few months back," Castle said. "She consults for the FBI. Maybe your former boy-toy could get her to take a look."

"My boy-toy? You mean Will?"

"Yeah, Sorenson, tall, light & goofy," Castle said.

Kate responded by rolling her eyes at him and shaking her head. After a moment, she took out her cell phone and waited, then said, "Hey Will, it's Kate. I've got a favor to ask you…" She disappeared through the door to the hallway with Castle hot on her heels.

Lanie just smiled and shook her head. "Sooner or later, Katie-girl," she said to herself. "Sooner or later." After a short pause, she added, "What the hell are you waiting for?"


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE – A Consult for NYPD**

Temperence Brennan sat in her office at the Jeffersonian. She sipped at her cup of chamomile tea before going back to the document on her computer. It was the rough draft for her latest novel, _A Bone to Pick_. She was very nearly done with it. She checked her watch quickly. Ten to eight. She'd been at her desk since before seven. At eight, she'd start working for the Jeffersonian, not that there was much for her to do. It had been a slow couple of weeks. She'd been considering an offer she'd received to go on a dig in Peru. Zack could certainly handle things on his own here at the Jeffersonian while she was gone.

She noticed movement out of the corner of her eye and glanced up in time to see Seely Booth bounding up the stairs outside her office. He came through the door. As usual, he wore a dark suit and a white shirt. His tie was bright blue with the word "Zoom" written from the belt to chest in dark purple. His belt buckle was in the shape of the Superman emblem.

"Hey Bones," he said, pulling a chair over from the wall to the space in front of her desk. "Whatcha up to?"

"Whatcha isn't a word, Booth," she answered, in typical Bones fashion.

"Yeah, thanks for that, Bones," he replied, and in a very proper, formal voice, he said, "What are you doing this morning Miss Brennan?"

"I've been editing my new book," she answered.

"Funny you should say that," Booth said, while taking a sip from the coffee he'd brought in with him. "How would you like to go to New York City this morning?"

"Did you hit your head or something?" Brennan asked. "What does my book have to do with New York City?"

"I'm guessing nothing," Booth said.

"So, why did you connect my book with a trip to New York?" Brennan asked, her brow furrowing just a bit in confusion.

Booth considered dragging it out a bit more, just to mess with her, but instead he said, "I got a call last night from one of our guys in the New York field office. NYPD wants to know if you'd be willing to consult on a case up there."

"I still don't see how this connects to my book," she said.

"The request came from a Detective Beckett. She's being shadowed by a crime novelist, Richard Castle. He suggested they consult with you."

"I've met him," she said. "And we share the same publisher," she said, the sound of her voice making it clear that she now understood the connection to which her partner had been referring.

"I already cleared it with Cam," Booth said. "FBI jet will be waiting at Reagan National. I figure just a day or two, so pack light." 

She stood up, closing her laptop and asked, "Can you give me a lift home to pack?"

"Your chariot awaits," Booth said, standing and gesturing with his hand. Brennan smiled as she started toward the door.

"You know that your SUV can't really be considered a chariot, right?"

"Yup, I know that, Bones."


	4. Chapter 4

AUTHOR'S NOTE: because Chapters 1 & 3 are so short, I decided to post 2 chapters each of the first two days. From here on, they should be longer & I will post only 1 per day. As always, reviews & criticisms are appreciated equally. G

**CHAPTER FOUR – A Knife and Some Marrow**

A few hours later, Brennan and Booth walked into 12th Precinct. They were directed upstairs to the squad room where they found Detective Beckett filling out paperwork.

"Detective Beckett," he said. "I'm FBI Special Agent Seely Booth, and this is Dr. Temperence Brennan from the Jeffersonian Institution." He held out his hand.

Beckett stood, taking first Booth's hand, and then Brennan's. "Thank you for coming," she said. "We'll certainly appreciate any help that you can give us on this case."

She gestured to Esposito, Ryan and Castle, who were returning from the break room with espressos. "These are my associates, Detectives Javier Esposito and Kevin Ryan, and Rick Castle, the novelist."

Booth shook hands with the men, as did Brennan, except for Castle, who insisted on pulling her into a quick hug. "It's good to see you again," he said.

From the look on Brennan's face, Booth was fairly certain that Castle's memories of their last meeting were more positive than Brennan's. It would also have been difficult for him not to notice the appraising, and approving looks that the two male detectives gave to Brennan.

The Captain approached, and Brennan, introduced him as well, "Captain Roy Montgomery, Agent Seely Booth and Dr. Temperence Brennan. They're here to consult on the case we caught yesterday."

"Oh yes, the body in the sewer. Welcome," he said. "The NYPD appreciates your assistance here."

"Glad to help, Captain," Booth said.

Beckett offered espresso to both their guests and Ryan retrieved it, for Booth. Brennan refused.

Kate led their new guests down to Lanie's autopsy suite, where another round of introductions took place. Beckett would have been surprised by the deference that Lanie showed to Dr. Brennan in her own morgue, except she'd taken the opportunity, after going home the night before, to look the woman up on-line. She'd been thoroughly impressed. Impressed enough to call Will back and ask him for any information the FBI might be willing to share regarding her work with them. By the time she'd finished reading what he sent, she was sold. Dr. Brennan was everything Castle had said she'd be, and more.

She waited to the side, with Agent Booth, while Brennan and Lanie went over everything Lanie knew to this point.

Booth said, "This is gonna take a while. What would you say to a bite of lunch," he asked. "You can fill me in on this case."

"Not much to fill in yet," Kate said. "But I could eat."

"Bones, we're gonna get a bite. Can we bring you guys anything?" Booth asked.

"Where you going?" Lanie asked.

Booth looked over at Beckett. "Your town," he said. "I'll trust you."

"There's a great deli down the street," she said. "I'll bring you back a ham and swiss on rye, Lanie."

"Sounds good to me," she said.

"I'll have a tossed salad with balsamic vinaigrette," Brennan told Booth. He nodded, after seeing Beckett nod that that was indeed an option. They scooped up Kate's boys on the way out.

Lunch was sandwiches and deli salads from Morton's. After a quick explanation, Booth agreed that they'd made the right call bringing in Brennan. "If anyone can get you something useful on this case, it's Bones."

"Why do you call her Bones?" Esposito asked.

"Just a nickname," Booth said.

"And she doesn't mind?" Ryan asked.

"Bones is extremely logical," Booth said. "She sees the logic of her nickname."

They ordered food to go, for Lanie and Brennan, before heading back to the morgue, the others joining Booth and Beckett this time.

"Find anything good Bones?" Booth asked.

"Perhaps, Booth," she answered.

"What did you find?" Beckett asked.

Lanie replied. "Dr. Brennan & I have been using a solution she created to clean the bones, carefully. We've already found four tiny nicks. I likely would have discounted them as part the damage done to the body on its trip through the sewers before getting hung up. Dr. Brennan believes that they may have been made by a knife, or some other sharp, edged object."

"So," Castle said, from his spot along the wall, "murder after all."

"Could be, Writer Boy," Lanie said. "Could be."

"We also managed to get a DNA sample by extracting some bone marrow from the thigh bone. We'll know more by tomorrow," Brennan told them.

"I sent the sample to the lab," Lanie said. "Told them to forward it to the FBI as well."

"I'll make a few calls," Booth said, "and see if I can get this pushed through a little faster." Beckett nodded her thanks.

The others left Lanie and Brennan to do their work.


	5. Chapter 5

AUTHOR'S NOTE: From here on the out, most of the chapters get a little bit longer. This chapter also marks the first appearance of the NCIS crew. As always, reviews, comments & criticisms are appreciated.

**CHAPTER FIVE – Good News and Bad News**

By noon the following day, Beckett had more information to go on, thanks to the efforts of Doctors Parish and Brennan. Their skeleton had been stabbed at least six times, by what was likely to turn out to be a large, extremely sharp knife, sharp enough to have nicked bone on three ribs, his thigh, collarbone and ulna.

Dr, Brennan, after cleaning the bones, placed the time of death at somewhere very close to nine years and four months. Beckett's people were running missing persons' reports from within six months in front of and behind that date now.

Their DNA request was on hold, given that their case was nine years old, and there were several, much more current, cases ahead of them.

Dr. Brennan and Lanie had also managed to give them a general idea on height and build. According to their findings, the skeleton was from a man, in his late twenties to early thirties, most likely Caucasian, around six feet tall and approximately one hundred and ninety pounds.

With all that information, they'd managed to narrow their list of possibles to just over twenty. They were working hard on narrowing that list, well all of them except Castle, who was on the phone with his ex-wife/editor, when Booth came back into the Squad Room, having spent the morning at the FBI's New York Field Office.

He was holding a file in his right hand, and waved it triumphantly overhead. "I've got some good news for you, and some bad news as well, I'm afraid, Detective Beckett."

"What's the good news?" she asked, looking up from the file on her desk.

"I got a DNA match for you," he said, waving the folder again.

"What's the bad news?" she asked as she took the folder and laid it on her desk.

"The match came through AFIS. Your guy was a Navy Lieutenant when he was killed," Booth answered. "He disappeared nine years and three months ago."

"Why is that bad news?" Castle asked, ending his phone call and rejoining the group around Beckett's desk.

"Because," Kate answered, "if he was active military, in this case Navy, then the military, in this case NCIS, will likely assume jurisdiction."

"Can they just take away our case like that?" Castle asked.

"Oh yeah," Esposito said. "I was in the Corps before I joined the force. They're serious about that stuff."

"You have no idea how serious," Booth said.

"What does that mean?" Castle asked.

"I had a case with FBI about a year ago, where we worked with NCIS, Brennan and I," he said. "One of the victims was a Navy Reservist who'd been called back to active duty from her job at FBI. The NCIS Major Case Response Team claimed jurisdiction. I worked it out with their Lead Agent to share the case."

"That doesn't sound so bad," Ryan said.

"He's a tough stubborn, son of a bitch," Booth said. "As it happens, the same tough, stubborn, son of a bitch that is on his way here now. Name's Gibbs."

"How did everything work out on your case?" Beckett asked.

"We got the guy, about a week later. Turned out it was actually two guys, brothers."

"Was this that I95 Killer case?" Esposito asked.

"Yeah," Booth said. "Gibbs is a pain in the ass, but he's also maybe the best investigator I've ever worked with."

"I followed that case," Esposito said. "Impressive work."

"Won't he be willing to work with us, like he did with you?" Castle asked.

"Maybe," Booth said. "In our case, the victim that brought them in was both Navy and FBI, so we both had a serious stake. Fact is, Gibbs doesn't play all that well with others unless he has a reason to."

"This is going to be a tough case to get anything going on anyway, nine years later," Beckett said. "We might want to just hand it off and see what we can do with the Majerus case. That one is still open."

"The Majerus case has been cold for almost three years," Ryan said.

"That's six less than this one, but still I don't like the idea of handing this one off," Esposito put in.

"Let's wait and see what happens when they get here," Beckett said.

"So, who's our vic?" Ryan asked.

Kate flipped the file open. "Lieutenant Mitchell Grayson," she said. "Former Navy SEAL, assigned to a posting here in New York with the Department of Defense. There's a lot of redacted material here. Not much left for us."

"Classified," Booth said. "You'd need a fairly high security clearance to get most of that stuff."

"Is yours high enough?" Castle asked.

"Yes," Booth said. "But if I share any of it with you, without the authorization of the US Navy, the Department of Defense, or the Lead Investigator on the case, I could be tried for treason."

"Whoa," Ryan and Castle said at the same time.

"I am the Lead Investigator on this case," Kate said, "at least until these NCIS folks show up."

"Sorry Detective," Booth said. "I've given you everything I can at this point. The Senior Special Agent in Charge, Tobias Fornell ordered me to stay out of it. So far as FBI is concerned, this case is NCIS jurisdiction, as of the moment the DNA match came through."

"And you never break the rules, Agent Booth?" Castle asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"All the time," Booth said. "However, as much as I might find him frustratingly stubborn and annoying, I respect Special Agent Gibbs. And quite honestly, I'm just a little bit afraid of him." He paused a moment to let his words sink in. "Of course," he added, "if any of you ever repeat any of that, I will deny it."

"Thank you, for getting the DNA match, and for giving us what you could of his file," Beckett said.

"No problem, Detective," Booth said. "I wish I could have done more."

"If NCIS wants the case, then I guess they can have it," Beckett said.

As if her words had been the cue, the elevator doors opened, six people filing out. The man in the lead was older, slender of build and tall, with grey hair and startlingly blue eyes. He had what appeared to be a Styrofoam cup of coffee in one hand. He was followed by two attractive young women with dark hair, and three men, two younger and one perhaps even older than the first man.

Beckett looked to Booth for confirmation, and received a nod, though she really didn't need it. Something in the first man's bearing, and his stride named him as Special Agent Gibbs.

Gibbs and most of his people headed straight for the Captain's office. One of the younger men, perhaps in his late thirties, looked toward them and broke off from the main group, heading their way.

"Seely Booth," he said, approaching with a hand out. He was tall and very handsome, with green eyes that seemed to sparkle with mirth. "Long time, no see."

Booth took his hand. "DiNozzo," he said. "We've been expecting you folks."

"We?" the other man asked.

"Booth gestured around the Squad Room. "Bones and I were called in to consult on the Grayson case until DNA identified him and it got kicked to you."

DiNozzo looked around. His instincts, almost always spot on, told him the woman seated at the desk next to where he was standing was in charge. He held out a hand to her. "Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, NCIS," he said.

She stood, taking his hand, "Kate Beckett," she said, then motioned to the others around the room, "Javier Esposito, Kevin Ryan, Richard Castle."

DiNozzo nodded to each. When Castle was introduced, he asked, "Richard Castle? Like the novelist?"

"Exactly like," Castle said.

"You're a cop as well?" DiNozzo asked.

"NYPD has been good enough to let me tag along behind Detective Beckett's team, for research purposes," Castle said.

"Hey," Tony said. "I love your books."

"Thanks," Castle replied dryly. "Do you like them enough to let us keep our case?"

DiNozzo laughed. "Not my call," he said, "but I wouldn't get your hopes up. I wonder what the odds are of getting two best-selling crime authors in the same squad room at the same time," he said.

"Bones is actually down in the morgue," Booth said.

"Oh, I forgot about her. Three then," DiNozzo said.

"Who is the third?" Esposito asked.

"See that goofy looking young guy standing next to the door in your Captain's office?"

"You mean Agent McGee?" Booth asked.

"Yeah," DiNozzo said. "Otherwise known as Thom E. Gemcity."

"Gemcity?" Castle asked. "As is Deep Six?"

"That's the one," DiNozzo said.

"I liked that book," Ryan said. DiNozzo grimaced a little, but said nothing.

At that point, the Captain's door opened. Captain Montgomery stuck his head out. "Detective Beckett," he said, "a moment please."

"Sorry," Tony mouthed silently as she started toward the office.

"Can you keep us in the loop at least?" Esposito asked him.

"I'll do my best," Tony said. "You got a card with your number?" Esposito handed him one and took one of Tony's. Tony tucked the card into the inside pocket of his suit before jogging after Beckett, slipping into the office just before the door closed again. Esposito tossed his into the top drawer of his desk.


	6. Chapter 6

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm curious if there is enough interest for me to continue posting this story. Unfortunately it seems to be generating very little interest to this point. Let me know if you'd like me to keep it going.

**CHAPTER SIX – A Familiar Name**

The NCIS team left the 12th Precinct with the body of Lt. Grayson around two hours later. The older man, the last to leave the elevator had turned out to be their Chief Medical Examiner, Dr. Mallard, though he'd insisted on being called Ducky. Beckett had escorted them down to Lanie's autopsy suite where they were filled in by Lanie and Dr. Brennan, who had apparently worked with Dr. Mallard in the past.

The Captain had made it quite clear to her that the NYPD would be turning over the case and all evidence they'd gathered to Gibbs' team. She didn't like it, but she didn't fight too hard. They hadn't invested too much in the case yet, and it did seem like it would be a very difficult one to solve. NCIS would likely be far more effective, able to bypass the roadblocks NYPD couldn't, like the redaction of the Lieutenant's file.

The other members of Gibbs' team had also been introduced to her, Special Agents Todd, David and McGee. If Kate was any judge, Agent David was not American. She'd wanted to ask, but never actually did.

She returned to the Squad Room once the feds had gone, including Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan, both of whom she thanked for their efforts in the investigation. Castle invited Booth to sit in on their monthly unit poker game if he made it back to New York.

"I just might take you up on that," Booth had said.

By two thirty that afternoon, most of the folks on Beckett's team were wrapped up either in paperwork, or in reviewing files on the murder of Theodore Majerus, a cold case from three years earlier, except, of course, for Castle. He'd found any number of ways to amuse himself around the Squad Room. When Beckett had asked him why he didn't just go home, he said, ""My mother is having a small get together at my place. Thirty or so of her closest, and most drunken friends."

"What about Alexis," Kate asked. "Is that a good thing for her to be around?"

"She's going straight to Paige's house after school and spending the night," he said. "Thank God."

"I don't know, Castle" Esposito said. "I don't think Martha's so bad."

"Try living with her for a week," Castle responded, without looking up. He'd grabbed the Grayson file Booth had given them from the corner of Kate's desk and he'd begun flipping through it.

Kate got up and headed for the ladies room. Esposito said, "You've got a great kid there, Castle. I'm sure she could probably handle it."

"No doubt she could," Castle said, "But I don't see any reason to….." he broke off mid-sentence, staring dumbly at the file in front of him, then closed it.

After a few seconds, Ryan looked up and asked, "Don't see any reason to what, Castle?" When the writer didn't respond, he asked again, and then said, "Castle, you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Esposito was up, out of his chair and moving around behind the writer, with Ryan right behind him. "What's going on man?" he asked.

Castle looked up, only to see Beckett returning from the restroom. He muttered under his breath, "Meet me at the coffee shop around the corner, fifteen minutes. Don't tell Beckett, and don't bring her along."

Castle took the opportunity, when Beckett stopped to chat with another detective, to stuff the file under his coat, ignoring Esposito & Ryan's questions about what was going on, and slipped out.

They shared a quick look, each wondering the same thing. Had Castle lost it? What would get him so riled up, and why keep Beckett in the dark? Without a word between them, they came to the agreement that they would play along, for now, until they had a better idea about what he was up to.

"Where'd Castle go?" Beckett asked when she got back to her desk.

"Not sure," Ryan said. "He said he had an errand to run and took off."

Beckett shrugged. "He probably got bored sitting around here all day with no active case," she said. She went back to filling out her paperwork.

The team continued to work in silence for another five minutes or so, until Esposito said, "I'm dying for a slice of pie. I think I'm gonna duck out for a few minutes and grab one."

"I'll join you," Ryan said, "if you don't mind, Boss." 

"No," Beckett said. "Go ahead. Just be back in thirty."

"No problem," Ryan said as the two men donned their suit coats. "Want us to bring you anything back?"

"I'm good," she said, without looking up.

A few minutes later, they entered the coffee shop. Castle was sitting in a booth in the back, a cup of coffee in front of him and a slice of cherry pie, untouched. The file was sitting in front of him and his hands were fidgeting on the tabletop.

Esposito and Ryan slid in across from him. The waitress was there almost immediately. They each ordered coffee and a slice of pie, apple for Ryan and cherry for Esposito. As soon as she'd gone, Esposito said, "What the hell is going on man?"

Castle slid the file across the table to him. "Take a look at page four," he said.

Esposito opened the file and flipped to page four. It was a list of known associates. He and Ryan read the first few names on the list. Castle said, "Second to last name from the bottom." Both sets of eyes moved to where he'd indicated. It read, STAFF SERGEANT RICHARD COONAN.

Esposito's eyes widened, followed an instant later by Ryan's. "Dick Coonan," Ryan said.

"She's gonna be pissed," Esposito answered.

"Even more so when she realizes she had the case and it was taken away," Castle said. "We have to tell her, right?"

"Yeah," Esposito said. "We have to tell her."

"It might be nothing," Castle said. "There could be dozens of Richard Coonans out there."

"You want to risk not telling her?" Ryan asked.

"We could do a little digging ourselves," Castle suggested. "Find out if there is any connection."

"If there's no connection, we don't tell her at all," Esposito said.

"No reason to upset her unnecessarily," Castle agreed.

"But if we do find anything," Ryan said, "we have to tell her immediately."

"Absolutely," Castle said.

"Where do we start?" Ryan asked.

"Coonan, the one Beckett shot, was ex-military," Esposito said. "That could be a connection."

"It could be," Castle agreed. "You said you used to be in the Marine Corps, right?" When Esposito nodded he asked. "You have any connections there that might be able to help us?"

"Not really," Esposito said. "I've been out almost ten years. Maybe I could ask that Agent DiNozzo."

"He did say he'd try to keep us in the loop," Ryan agreed.

"I left that damn card in my desk," Esposito said.

"Try calling Booth," Ryan suggested. "I'm sure he could get us DiNozzo's number. They seemed to be on decent terms."

A few minutes, and a quick phone call to Booth did the trick. Esposito dialed the number for Agent DiNozzo and put his own phone on speaker.

"Yeah, DiNozzo."

"Agent DiNozzo, Detective Esposito here."

"Wow," Tony said. "you don't waste any time. When you say you want to be kept in the loop, you want to be kept in the loop."

"You're on speaker phone with myself, Detective Ryan and Richard Castle. We have a favor to ask you."

"Hang on a second," Tony responded. Although they couldn't have known it, he was sitting at a conference table in a hotel just a few blocks from where they were. He held up one finger, indicating to Gibbs and his teammates that he'd back in a minute before stepping out into the hallway. "Alright," he said, "go ahead."

"We found a list of known associates for Lieutenant Grayson in the sanitized file that Agent Booth brought us," Esposito said.

Castle picked up, "There was a name in there that we've come across before, and we'd like to known as much about this individual as possible, but we don't have clearances."

"We were hoping you might be able to cut through some of the red tape for us," Ryan said.

"I might," DiNozzo said, cautiously. "What's the name?"

"Staff Sergeant Dick Coonan." Castle said.

"I'll look into it," DiNozzo answered. "I'll get back to you, even if it's just to tell you that I can't tell you anything."

"We appreciate the assistance, Agent DiNozzo," Esposito said, ending the call.

"Now what?" Castle asked.

"Now we wait," Ryan said, then glanced at his watch, "and we," he gestured to Esposito and himself, "we get back up to the Squad Room before Beckett gets annoyed."

They both reached into their pockets for some cash before castle waved them off.

"I'll take care of the check," he said.

"Thanks, man," Ryan said, Esposito nodding along.

"Go home for now, Rick," Esposito said. "I'll call you as soon as DiNozzo calls me back with anything."

That left Castle doing the one thing he hated most, waiting.


	7. Chapter 7

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I appreciate all those who took the time to review, or send a message. I will go ahead and continue the story. However, I think I'll take the advice of one reader and shift this story to a Crossover. Most of my previous stories were NCIS stories, so I guess it just seemed natural to keep posting them here. I'll start that when I post Chapter 8, give those who have been following it here a chance to know in advance that it is moving. I'm really enjoying writing this story, and I'd be happy to get any feedback, positive or negative that my readers might care to share. How else do we improve at this? Anyway, I hope you continue to enjoy, G

**CHAPTER SEVEN – Ninety-six Percent, Alexis & Telling Kate**

DiNozzo came back into the conference room and sat down just in time to hear Gibbs say, "Tomorrow McGee, you'll go with Ducky to accompany the body back to Washington, and work from there. DiNozzo, David, Todd and I will stay here, check things out at the DOD facility where Grayson worked."

"What was that all about, Tony?" Ziva asked, indicating the cell phone he still had in his hand.

Tony debated on whether or not he should share, but he saw no reason not to. "That was Detective Esposito, from the 12th Precinct. I met him earlier today. They wanted to be kept in the loop, so I gave him my card."

"And he's already calling?" Kate asked. "That seems a little impatient."

"Actually, he called and asked for information on a specific individual, one of the known associates for Lieutenant Grayson," Tony said. "I got the feeling they'd had contact with him before."

"Which one?" Gibbs asked.

"Master Sergeant Dick Coonan," Tony replied. "You have any problem with me looking at him and passing it along, Boss?"

"No," Gibbs said. "Do it. Might turn up something for us in the process."

Tony was a little surprised, and judging by the looks on their faces, so were Kate and McGee. "Not to be a pain in the ass, Boss, but…"

Gibbs cut Tony off, "When aren't you a pain in my ass, DiNozzo?"

"That hurts, Boss," Tony said, putting on his sad puppy dog face, which of course made Ziva snicker. "I'm just surprised you're willing to share information with these guys."

"I assumed, if you uncover something they shouldn't know, you'd be smart enough to hold it back," Gibbs said. "My mistake."

"I do something to piss you off, Boss?" Tony asked.

"No," Gibbs answered. "I just hate New York. Besides, I looked into this Detective Beckett before we came up here. She's damned good. Ninety-six percent case closure rate, ninety-four percent resulting in convictions. Give them the info, unless it will hurt our case."

"Ninety-six percent," Kate whistled through her teeth. "They are good."

"McGoo," Tony said, "care to give me a hand looking into this Coonan character?"

"Sure, Tony."

Castle left the diner and headed back to his apartment. He had half the afternoon to kill, so he figured he might as well get some writing done. Chapter seventeen was an important one. Nikki Heat and Jameson Rook were about to get the lead that would really set them on the right path to solving their case. Not to mention their little rendezvous in the shower. That would probably turn Beckett's hair white when she read it. He chuckled to himself.

He opened the door to his loft and the scent of freshly baked bread hit his nose. He smiled. Alexis had taken to baking bread of late.

"Is that pumpernickel I smell?" he called out.

"Dad!" She came hurtling around the corner from the kitchen and launched herself into his arms, burying her face against his chest.

"That's my girl," he said, returning her fierce hug. "You know how much I love a good turkey sandwich on fresh pumpernickel."

"I got a college packet from Waverly today. Do you think we could make a visit down there soon?" Alexis asked.

"College visits, already? You're just started your junior year."

"True, but I'll only need about six credits to graduate next year. I could go early. I just figured I should get a head start."

"Is there anything you don't excel at, daughter?" Castle asked his overachieving child.

"Keeping you in line. I'm pretty bad at that," she said, smiling up at him.

"Nobody is good at that," he answered. "Nature of the beast, I'm afraid."

She slapped his chest playfully, "Do not refer to yourself as a beast."

"Okay, okay," he said, moving toward his office. He stopped near the door, a thought occurring to him. "Where is Waverly anyway?"

"Washington DC," Alexis called back over her shoulder as she started up the stairs, toward her room.

"Isn't that kind of far away?" Castle said, his lower lip sticking out in an exaggerated pout.

"Not that far," she answered, turning to lean against the railing and face him. "Besides, it's not like I've already made up my mind. I'm also considering NYU, Penn, and Princeton."

"Wow," Castle said. "hearing the names of these schools has made me realize that I'd better finish _Summer Heat_ soon and start on another book." Alexis just smiled and rolled her eyes. She knew he'd already set aside more money for her education than she'd be likely to need. "What happened to your Grandmother's party?"

"They decided to go out dancing instead," she said.

"And your trip to Paige's?"

"Her boyfriend called. No big deal."

Rick Castle smiled as he watched his pride and joy climb the stairs. No matter what was troubling him, she could always make him smile. He turned to the kitchen and sliced himself a thick slice of warm, fresh bread, slathered it with butter and dropped it on a small plate. He took a can of Pepsi from the fridge and headed to his office.

Over the next three hours, he wrote seven pages, the better part of chapter seventeen, and he was pretty happy with how they'd come out. He'd make some minor changes when he went back through it all later, he was sure, but all in all, not a bad afternoon's worth of work. He'd just returned from the kitchen with another Pepsi, after agreeing with Alexis that they would order Chinese from Wong Fu's for dinner. He sat himself back in front of his laptop, determined to write another page and a half, or so, to finish the chapter, when his phone range. The caller ID said it was Esposito.

"Javier," he said, "what's up?"

"You mind if we stop over in about twenty minutes?" Esposito asked.

"Not at all. Just you and Ryan?"

"No," Esposito said, and Castle could hear the serious tone in his voice.

"You heard back from DiNozzo." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah. It was our Coonan. I'm gonna call Beckett and Montgomery, have them meet us there. We have to tell her."

"Yeah," Castle said, uncharacteristically serious. "Alexis and I were just about to order Chinese. I'll get enough for everybody."

"We'll stop and pick up a twelve pack," Esposito said, "and some red wine for Beckett."

"Don't worry about the wine," Castle said. "I've got plenty." He hung up, and looked up to see Alexis standing in the doorway to his office.

"Is everything okay, Dad?" she asked. "You look a little upset again."

"You're probably too young to be hearing about all this stuff, but let's face it, you're more mature than I am," Castle said.

"That might be an understatement," Alexis smiled, moving into the room and settling herself on the corner of his desk. "Is it about a case?"

"Yeah," he answered. He proceeded to tell her about the discovery of the skeleton in the subway, and their involvement of the FBI, the eventual handing over of the case to NCIS, and his subsequent discovery of Dick Coonan's peripheral attachment to the case.

She waited quietly, absorbing it all until he'd finished, then asked, "Did you tell Detective Beckett?"

"Esposito and Ryan are having her meet us over here in a few minutes, with Captain Montgomery. We're going to tell her tonight."

"I guess I should order a lot more food then" she said, scooping up his cell phone and dialing out.

"That's my girl," he said, getting up and moving toward the entry hall. "Don't forget to get extra sauce on my orange chicken," he called out. Her only response was a smile, and a thumbs up, as she'd begun talking to whomever had answered the line at the restaurant.

Beckett was the first to arrive at his door, some fifteen minutes after Esposito's call. She was dressed in black jeans, which fit her extremely well, he couldn't help but notice, with white Adidas sneakers and an oversized bronze colored sweater that left only the tips of her fingers protruding from the sleeves.

As he ushered her inside, she turned to face him and said, "What the hell is going on Castle?" When he hesitated, she said, "You disappeared this afternoon without a word, then Ryan and Esposito spend the rest of the day doing their best not to let me see them watching me out of the corner of their eyes, and now Esposito tells me to drop everything and get over here. What the hell is going on?"

Castle was saved, for a moment, when Alexis appeared. "Detective Beckett, hi."

Beckett turned to embrace her. "Hi Alexis, and call Kate, okay?"

"Sure, Kate." Alexis smiled, taking Beckett's hand and leading her into the living room. "Come on in. Make yourself at home."

Beckett threw a look back at Castle, over her shoulder as she allowed the young girl to get her seated on the couch.

There was another knock at the door, and Castle opened it to find a somewhat annoyed-looking Roy Montgomery. "Captain," he said. "Please come on in."

Before he'd made it two steps inside, Montgomery asked, "Castle, can you tell me why I just canceled on a dinner reservation with my wife, the Chief of Police and his wife, and the Mayor? Esposito called and said to drop everything and get right over here."

"Captain?" Beckett's voice came from the other room. "What are you doing here sir?" She appeared in the doorway, Alexis right behind her. "Damn it Castle, tell me what's going on."

"I will," he said, "I promise you that, Kate, Captain." She was a little taken aback, both by the sincerity in his voice, and his familiar use of her first name. "The problem is, at the moment, I only know part of the story. Esposito and Ryan know more than I do. They should be here any minute. Best we wait for them, I think."

Beckett and Montgomery shared a brief look, but both decided that they trusted Castle, Ryan and Esposito enough to give them a few minutes.

"Would you like something to drink? Wine, Kate? Maybe a beer, Roy?" Castle asked.

"Is this bad enough that I'm going to want to be drunk before it's over?" Montgomery askd.

Castle replied, never taking his eyes from Beckett. "No, but a beer to take the edge off wouldn't hurt."

Montgomery nodded. Kate said nothing, but Castle figured he knew her well enough by now to know her likes, and there was a bottle of Bordeaux '78 he'd bought at auction last year that she would like. It might soften the blow a bit.

Beckett and Montgomery drifted back into the living room while he got their drinks ready. By the time he was done, Ryan popped into the kitchen with a twelve pack of Michelob bottles, slipping it onto the lowest shelf of the fridge. He pulled out a pair of bottles for himself and Esposito, seeing that Castle had already opened two Molsons for himself and the Captain.

They marched back to the living room, where Alexis was doing her best to keep the others entertained. As soon as she saw that everyone was ready, she excused herself. As she left the room she said, "I'll get the door when the delivery guy comes."

"Thanks, Sweetheart," Castle said. "My wallet is in the office on the desk. Money clip too."

He handed out the drinks, and then sat on the couch next to Beckett.

Esposito could sense the mood in the room. No one was in the mood to wait any longer than they had too, so he stood and turned to face the group. Ryan nodded supportively. Castle was almost overcome with the urge to proclaim, "I've gathered you all her so that I might reveal the murderer in our midst," but he restrained himself, for Beckett's sake.

Esposito began, "Let me start by apologizing, Beckett,…Kate, we found something today, but we didn't want to bring it to you until we were sure that there was something to it."

"About my Mom's case," Kate said. It wasn't a question. Esposito never called her by her first name, unless it was serious.

"Sort of," Ryan said. 

"What does that mean, sort of?" the Captain asked. Seeing what the topic was now, he was no longer so upset at having to cancel his reservation. He was now concerned with the effect this would all have on his best Detective.

"This afternoon, while we were working the Majerus case and you were doing paperwork, Castle started flipping through that file Booth brought us on Lieutenant Grayson." Beckett's eyes flicked from Esposito over to Castle. She held her untouched glass of wine with her right hand, balancing it on her knee. Castle was surprised when her left hand found his and squeezed.

He also noted that Esposito was directing everything to her, rather than the Captain. Montgomery didn't seem to mind. By the looks he was giving Beckett, she was his primary concern, just like the rest of them.

"There wasn't much to the file, most of the interesting stuff had been redacted, and NCIS showed up before we even managed to give it a review, and they took the case, so we set it aside," Esposito continued. When Castle was flipping through it, something caught his attention. Under the list of known associates, he spotted the name Richard Coonan." He paused to allow it to sink in.

Both Beckett's and Montgomery's eyes widened a bit at that. Kate squeezed Castle's hand again. He began to rub small circles of the skin at the back of her hand, with his thumb. She didn't seem to object.

"We discussed whether we should tell you right away," Ryan said, "but we thought it better to find out if it was the same Dick Coonan, or not, first."

"When you went for pie," Beckett said. Again, it wasn't a question. Ryan and Esposito just nodded.

"I assume that this associate was the Dick Coonan we know, otherwise we wouldn't be here right now," Montgomery said. "Where'd you get the information?"

"From Agent DiNozzo, of NCIS." That was Esposito again. "We traded cards earlier today. I told him I wanted to be kept up to date on the Grayson case, as much as he could. When we found out about Coonan, I called him and asked him to get me as much as he could."

"What did he find?" Castle asked, both because he wanted to know, but also, partly to show Kate that he'd been serious earlier. He hadn't known the whole story.

"We knew Coonan was ex-military, and we knew he'd segued into drug trafficking and murder for hire." There was a tiny flinch from Beckett on that last sentence. Castle never saw it, nor did anyone else, and he'd never have known but for the fact that she was still letting him hold her hand. He felt it, barely. Esposito continued, "Turns out, Coonan was an Army Staff Sergeant, Rangers, back in the mid-nineties. He was attached to some Department of Defense Special Operations team based right here in New York."

Ryan picked up from there, "Grayson was another member of the team, Navy SEAL. Him, Coonan, and four others. DiNozzo declined to give us the names, just yet, of the other four guys in the unit."

"What does that mean, 'just yet'?" Montgomery asked.

"I'll get back to that in a minute, Captain," Esposito said. "First, he said there were rumors going around that Coonan, and maybe one of the other guys on the team were dirty. It's why Coonan left the military, they were gonna boot him out anyway."

"Other than Coonan, how does any of this connect with my mother's case?" Beckett asked. She leaned forward and set her wineglass on the coffee table. Castle didn't even think she was aware of it when she began using her free hand to fiddle with her mother's ring on the chain around her neck.

"That's the thing," Ryan said. "We don't see where it does…"

"Except for this," Esposito cut him off. Your Mom was killed by Coonan early in ninety-nine. We know that. And Coonan left the military late in ninety-eight. The DOD program he was in, also shut down early in ninety-nine."

"Your Mom was a lawyer, right?" Castle asked.

Kate hesitated, and took a deep breath before speaking. Her eyes sparkled with tears she was holding back. There was just a slight tremor in her voice. "She was a junior partner at her law firm, Markham, King and Obermeier."

"Could there be some connection there?" Castle asked.

"I looked at every case she was working on when I investigated the first time," Kate said. "None of them were related to the US Government."

"Hold on a minute here," Montgomery said, sliding a little closer to Beckett on the couch. He put his left hand on her right knee, and looked her in the eyes. "Is this something you want us to pursue, Kate?"

"We'll back off if that's what you want," Castle said, getting enthusiastic nods of agreement from both Ryan and Esposito.

"And if I want to look into it?" Kate asked, the strain in her voice clear.

"Then we're with you. We've got your back one hundred percent," Castle said, giving her hand a squeeze.

"A hundred and ten percent," Esposito affirmed.

"Then we should see where it leads," Beckett said, forcing a smile. She dabbed at the corner of her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater.

"I'll make a call, first thing in the morning to the Director of NCIS," Montgomery said. "I know a couple of Congressmen who owe me favors. With any luck, we might be able to get back in on this."

"Might not be necessary, Sir," Ryan said.

"That's what I told you I'd get back to," Esposito said. "When Agent DiNozzo called with this information, he said we should talk things over, and when we were done, Beckett should come to the Fairmont Hotel. That's where the NCIS crew is staying. He said that his Boss wanted to talk to her."

"You think they're just going let her in on their investigation after snatching it away from us today?" Montgomery asked.

"From the way DiNozzo was talking, I think they figured out why I asked about Coonan, probably put the pieces together on their own. He wouldn't come out and say so much, but I think this Gibbs character has something similar in his background," Esposito said.

"What do you think we should do," Castle asked Beckett.

"I think I should go over to the Fairmont and talk to Special Agent Gibbs." There was more strength in her voice, and the tears were clearing from her eyes. She was more Detective Beckett again, less the wounded young Kate.

Alexis appeared in the doorway, carrying several plates, each one heaped high with portions of orange chicken, vegetable lo mein, pepper steak, white rice and an egg roll. Each plate also had a pair of chopsticks and a fork.

Beckett smiled at her and said, "That smells great. Maybe we should eat first."

"Good idea, Detective Beckett," Castle said, indicating that Ryan and Esposito should pull a chair up closer and dig in. "You might just be a genius." She shooed him away with her chopsticks, so he headed to the kitchen to get fresh beers for everyone. Kate hadn't even had a sip of her wine yet, so he brought an extra beer for her just in case. He doubted that it would go to waste, regardless.

Alexis finished piling up the last of the plates and started out of the kitchen, but not before he kissed her on the top of her head and murmured, "Thanks, Pumpkin."

Upon his return, he sat next to Kate again and dug into his own plate. He was surprised to realize that he was famished. Ryan and Esposito both offered to give up a chair for Alexis, but she simply pulled up a large throw pillow and sat cross-legged on it, next to Castle. 

Beckett finished a bite of pepper steak, then looked at Castle and asked, "You will come with me, right?"

"Of course I will," he paused, "if you want me to."

"I want you to," she said. He gave her a sincere smile, and waited until she'd used her chopsticks to pop a small piece of orange chicken into her mouth, then, being who he was, he couldn't resist adding, "Of course, Detective Beckett, if you want to lure me to a hotel and have your way with me, there are simpler ways to go about it. You could just ask."

Her eyes got big around, and her free hand whipped out, grabbing his ear and pinching.

"Ow, ow, ow!" he cried. "Apples, Apples!!"

She held him like that, squirming and crying until she'd finished chewing, then said, "Castle, what kind of thing is that to say in front of your sixteen year old daughter?"

"She's got a point Castle," Ryan said, pointing at him with his fork, while Esposito and Montgomery murmured in agreement.

Alexis just laughed and said, "That was fairly tame. Usually, he's much more specific." The look of horror on Castle's face was almost perfect as Beckett twisted his ear one more time, eliciting another pained yelp before letting go.

Castle glowered at his only child, who smiled back a smile of sweet innocence.

Beckett fought down the urge to laugh at the scene, which she knew damned well had been his intent all along. She marveled at how he could lift her spirits no matter what was going on around them. She took another bite of orange chicken while he grinned that devil may care grin of his.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER EIGHT – Coming to an Understanding**

Captain Montgomery went home to his wife after they'd eaten, and Ryan to his girlfriend. Alexis went upstairs to finish her homework. Esposito had offered to drive Beckett and Castle to the Fairmont, but they'd refused, so he'd headed home as well.

Castle suggested a cab, but Beckett preferred to walk. It was only twelve blocks or so to the Fairmont from Castle's building, and she'd enjoy the fresh air, and besides, the walk would give her some time to gather herself for whatever was awaiting her at the Fairmont.

He seemed to understand that she needed to be quiet, alone with her thoughts, but not really alone. About halfway there, he took her hand, lacing his fingers with her own, but he didn't say a word.

On another night, under different circumstances, she'd probably have smacked him and commented on his foolishness, even though she'd be secretly pleased. Not tonight. Tonight, she let him hold her hand. She even smiled a bit, but just a bit. No need to swell his head, after all.

When they were only half a block from the hotel, he finally spoke. "Are you sure you're ready to do this?" he asked.

"Yup," she nodded, then smiled up at him. "Thanks for coming with me, Rick."

"He shook his head, and made an incredulous face, then said, "I'm sorry, I think I must have just slipped into another dimension or something. Did you just call me Rick?"

With a smirk, she replied, "Shut up, Castle."

"That's more like it," he said. "For a minute there, I thought that the world had slipped off its axis."

She swatted his arm, but immediately leaned her head in against his shoulder. "Seriously," she said, "thanks."

"No problem," he said. "You ready?"

She let go of his hand, stood straight, and took a deep breath. Her eyes, uncertain a moment ago, had become the eyes he was used to seeing every day, tough, no nonsense. This was full bore Detective Beckett. "Let's go," she said, stepping off the curb and weaving her way through traffic to the other side.

They entered the lobby of the Fairmont. It was neither the Waldorf Astoria, nor the Motel 6. The prices were reasonable, and the rooms decent and comfy. In other words, it was just the kind of place you might expect to find Federal Agents in town on a case.

Beckett walked across the lobby to the house phone. "What room number did Esposito say again?" she asked.

"Uhm, three eleven, I think," Castle said.

Beckett picked up the receiver and dialed 3-1-1. There were two rings, followed by a man's voice, "Yeah, Gibbs."

"Agent Gibbs, Detective Beckett. I'm in the lobby."

"The hotel bar," he said, "three minutes," and he hung up.

Beckett hung up as well, and glanced around. The bar was not overly large, nor trendy. It was set off to one side of the lobby, and it seemed pretty quiet. She started moving in that direction, Castle right on her heels.

They found a table in a corner and sat. Beckett put her back against the corner, and watched the entrance. The bartender approached the table. It was slow enough that there didn't seem to be a waitress. They waved him off for the moment.

It was nearly three minutes on the dot when Beckett saw Agent Gibbs come striding through the doors, Agent DiNozzo right behind him. Gibbs moved straight toward them, no smile, no wave. DiNozzo broke off just before they reached the table, setting himself up on one of the barstools near the close end of the bar.

Gibbs signaled the bartender who moved to take their order. He held his right hand up, thumb and forefinger about an inch apart, and said, "Bourbon. No ice." The bartender nodded, then looked to Beckett.

"Glenlevit, rocks," she said.

Castle added, "I'll have the same."

The bartender moved off to get their drinks, setting a club soda with lime in front of Tony, at his request.

For almost a minute, no one said anything. Gibbs studied Beckett and Castle. Beckett studied Gibbs. Castle wondered what the hell they were doing. Why wouldn't either one speak?

Finally, Beckett said, "You wanted to speak to me?"

"I figured you'd want to talk to me," he answered, accepting his drink from the bartender and taking a small sip.

Beckett waited until the bartender had set their other drinks down and left. Then, she said, "About what?"

"You gonna tell me that you don't want in on this case?" Gibbs asked.

"Nope. I just want to know why it matters to you," Beckett replied. "Your rep is that you don't care about any agency or department outside your own."

"That's true enough," Gibbs said. "Most of them are full of enough shit to fertilize the Midwest." He stopped and took another sip. "In my book, respect is earned, not awarded because you work for a government, or state agency."

"And just how have I earned your respect? We said what, three words to one another in the Captain's office today?"

Gibbs smirked. "Less, I think. However, I pulled your file before I came up here Detective. Very impressive."

"Yeah she is." Beckett was amazed that Castle had managed to remain quiet this long. A withering look from Gibbs had him edging back in his chair. _Wow_, she thought, _I'll have to remember that look for my own use later_.

"How so?" she asked.

"You're case closure rate is ninety-six percent, eighteen percent above your precinct average, and the 12th is four percent above the NYPD average. Ninety-four percent of your closures result in convictions." He paused again as he took another sip. "Not to mention, you deal with him every day," he gestured toward Castle with his glass, "and your rates have gone up since he arrived."

"Castle's smart, and he picks up on things other people miss."

"Is that so?" Gibbs asked.

"Yup," from Beckett.

Gibbs continued to look at Beckett, his steely, almost unbelievably blue eyes locked with her smoldering green. "Prove it," he said, and though he never looked away from her, the words were clearly meant for Castle.

That was just fine by Castle. He'd been thinking things through all day, and he was pretty sure he was right. He leaned forward, smirked and said, "How about the fact that you sent your boy DiNozzo over there to scope us out earlier?"

Again, he never took his eyes from Becketts face, but he said, "What makes you think I sent DiNozzo?"

"Oh, there was nothing to tip it off," Castle said. "You never motioned, or spoke to him, and it certainly seemed, at the time, like he'd just spotted Agent Booth and come over on his own. But I've been thinking about it. Beyond a quick hello, he barely spoke to Booth. He seemed far more interested in us."

"He's an investigator. He's naturally curious," Gibbs said.

"Okay," Castle continued. "How about the fact that from the moment you got off that elevator, until you left the 12th, the rest of your people were grouped on you like a squadron of Blue Angels flying tight formation, except for Agent DiNozzo. If you'll excuse the Naval pun, you don't seem like the kind of guy who'd be happy with one of his men jumping ship like that….unless that was what you wanted him to do."

Beckett raised one eyebrow, as if to say, "impressed yet?" Gibbs response was

another tiny smirk. "That it?" he asked.

"Well, it was until a moment ago," Castle said. "You told us that you pulled Beckett's file before coming up here. If that was the case, and you were in fact 'impressed' when you read it," Castle made quote marks in the air when using the word impressed, "then you'd have wanted to know more. You took the case without an offer to share it to see how she'd react. When she didn't, you assumed that we'd missed what you saw early on, the connection to Beckett's mother's case. Problem was, we'd only just gotten the file when you came in. We didn't get to review it until after you left."

"Not bad," Gibbs said.

"Is all that true, Boss?" Tony asked from the bar. "Is that why you sent me over there to get a read on them this morning?"

"Well yeah, DiNozzo," Gibbs said. He lifted his glass and took another sip of bourbon. "So, Detective," he said. "do you want in on this case?"

"You know I do," Beckett said.

"Do I?"

"Yes, cause that's what you'd want."

"So you think we're alike then, do you?" There was something of a challenge in Gibbs' voice. _That's okay_, Beckett thought. _Castle passed his test, now it's my turn_.

"In several ways," she said. "We're both leaders, both working for people we respect. We're the best. You read off my resume earlier, and I've been made aware of yours as well. We both put up with immature, frat boys, in large part because they're much better at their jobs than anyone would ever suspect, and they both hide their feelings behind antics. "Am I getting warm?" DiNozzo's squirming in his seat during her frat boy comments and the grin he was otherwise trying to hide told her all she needed to know.

Gibbs merely continued to stare. Clearly, he wanted more. "Most of all," Beckett said, "you've been where I am now. You lost someone, to violence, and you had to set it right to regain the balance in your life. That's why you're offering me the chance now."

Gibbs smirked again, and tilted his glass toward Beckett. Clearly she'd passed the test. However, she felt the need to push a little. "Who was it?" she asked. "Wife, sibling, parent?"

For the first time, he looked away from her, down into his glass. At the bar, DiNozzo turned away from the table, as though to allow Gibbs his privacy. For a moment, Beckett thought that, maybe she'd made a mistake.

Then he spoke. His voice was low, not much more than a whisper, but it was quiet enough in the bar that neither she, nor Castle had any trouble hearing him. "My wife, and my daughter," he said. "They were killed by a dirtbag Mexican drug dealer after my wife witnessed him killing a Marine."

"I'm sorry," Beckett said. She recognized the raw emotion in his voice. She'd heard it in her own voice many times.

"Me too," Castle said. "How long ago did this happen?"

"Ninety-one," Gibbs said. "I was in Iraq for the first Gulf War." He downed what was left of his drink in one shot and dropped a twenty dollar bill on the table. "Tomorrow morning, in the lobby, seven sharp, and don't be late," he said.

"I won't be," Beckett replied.

"If you bring him," Gibbs gestured at Castle with his thumb, "he's your responsibility. Keep him out of the way."

"Hey…," Castle started to object, but Beckett quieted him with a raised hand.

Gibbs said, "Other rules, NCIS is Lead Agency, and I am the Lead Investigator. If you're on my team, you follow my rules. Any problem with that?"

"None," Beckett said. "I would like to bring another one of my Detectives though."

"Esposito," Gibbs said. "The Marine."

"Former Marine," Castle corrected.

Gibbs glanced over at him with a smirk. "DiNozzo, tell the writer here why he's wrong." 

DiNozzo stood up, took a last swig of his club soda and placed a hand on Castle's shoulder, then said, "There is no such thing as a former Marine."

"You didn't just pull my file, you pulled the files on all my people," Beckett said.

"First time tonight you've been wrong," Gibbs said. "Seven sharp," he called over his shoulder as he walked away.

DiNozzo stayed back a moment and said, "I told him about Esposito. Marines are pretty easy to spot when you know what you're looking for." He flashed them a dazzling smile and then followed Gibbs out the door.

"I think that went pretty well," Castle said.

Beckett smiled. She could see why Booth both respected and disliked Gibbs at the same time. She was fairly certain that, by the time they'd wrapped this case, she'd probably feel much the same.


	9. Chapter 9

AUTHOR'S NOTE: A big thank you to all those who've taken the time & effort to review, or send private messages. I hope you continue to enjoy the story. To answer a few of the questions I've received, this will continue to be primarily a case fic, specifically the murder of Johanna Beckett, however, if you squint and look close enough, there may be a few minor hints of Castle/Beckett, Kate/Gibbs & Tony/Ziva. None of those pairings will be truly central to the plot though. As for those who've asked how Kate & Ziva are both on the team, the answer to that question lies in my previous stories, The Long Lie (NCIS) & Convergence (NCIS/Bones/Criminal Minds).

**CHAPTER NINE – The Investigation Begins**

The following morning found Beckett, Castle and Esposito waiting in the lobby of the Fairmont at six-forty-five in the morning. Each had a cup of coffee from a shop down the street & Esposito was carrying a drink caddy with six more cups. Castle had a small paper bag with cream cups, sugar packets and stirrers.

Gibbs and his crew hit the lobby floor at six-fifty-three. A quick round of introductions took place, and it wasn't long before DiNozzo's "Jack" was vying with Castle's Walken for best celebrity impersonation, until Gibbs put a quick end to it with a dual head-slap. Before Castle could object, Tony caught his eye and warned him off.

Gibbs took a cup from the caddy and took a sip. "Not as strong as I normally take it, but not bad."

"I'm glad you approve, Agent Gibbs," Beckett said, her voice dripping sarcasm.

"C'mon," Gibbs said. "Time to go to work."

They headed for the hotel parking garage. The NCIS crew had two dark blue Dodge sedans, which they'd requisitioned from the New York Navy Yard. Beckett's Crown Vic was parked a few rows over. Gibbs tossed a set of keys to Caitlyn Todd.

"Agent Todd," he said, "take Detective Esposito and go back to the Navy Yard. We'll use their Conference Room as our command center in New York. Set up a link with NCIS HQ and find out how much headway Abby's made on backgrounding the list of Associates on Lieutenant Grayson."

"Got it," Caitlyn said, using the button on the fob to unlock the sedan. Esposito followed her at Beckett's nod.

As they moved away, Gibbs called out, "And Kate,…"

Agent Todd cut in before he could finish, "fill Esposito in on Stormchaser," she said, climbing into the car.

"What's Stormchaser?" Castle asked, only to be silenced by a raised finger from Gibbs.

"Sounds like a title you could have used in one of your books," Beckett whispered to him, causing him to smirk.

Gibbs said, "DiNozzo, take David with you. Get over to the Federal Building."

DiNozzo cut him off as well, "and talk to everyone there who might have had contact with the guys who worked Stormchaser…"

David jumped in, "and get names, and contact information for any who might have retired or transferred since then."

"On it, Boss!" Tony said. They started toward the other sedan, bickering over who would get to drive.

"And where are we headed, Agent Gibbs," Beckett asked.

Gibbs took a sip and started moving toward her car. "That's up to you, Detective," he said. "Where would it be easiest for us to find case files on all murders in this city for the past twelve years?"

"All of them, for twelve years?" she asked, somewhat shocked, as she followed him.

"Just the unsolved ones," he said.

As they reached the car, Gibbs climbed into the passenger seat, leaving Castle to get in the back. Once they were moving, he asked again, "What's Stormchaser?"

Beckett turned right out of the garage, heading for 1PP. Any files they'd need, regardless of the Precinct, they could find there. Gibbs sipped his coffee again before replying. "First off, some more ground rules."

"I thought we already went over those," Beckett said.

Gibbs answered. "Some of the information on this case is sensitive, a lot of it is Classified. I got your team clearance, including your Captain and Detective Ryan, though I wouldn't discuss it with them unless you need to."

"What about me?" Castle asked.

"That was tougher," Gibbs said, "but Montgomery put in a number of good words for you." Before Castle could speak again, Gibbs added, "However,…if I ever see anything that even resembles this case in print, in anything you write, I promise you that I'll make it my life's work to lock you up for High Treason, if I don't just have David call one of her Mossad contacts and end you. Got it?"

Castle was used to Beckett's constant threats against his well-being. He took them in stride, generally. He figured she wouldn't really hurt him. This guy was a whole other story. "Got it," he said, and his own voice sounded a little hoarse to him.

"Castle's alright, Agent Gibbs," Beckett said, a bit of fire in her voice. Castle liked it that she was sticking up for him.

""If I didn't believe that, he wouldn't be here now."

"So," Beckett said, "what's Stormchaser?"

Gibbs sipped some more coffee as Kate slid over in front of a yellow cab and into the left turn lane. "Normally, I expect my people to pay attention, and keep up. I don't like repeating myself or explaining."

"That's shocking," Castle muttered in the back seat. Beckett shot him a look in the rearview mirror that practically screamed, _Behave yourself!_

Gibbs seemed to either not hear him, or ignore him. He went on, "Stormchaser was a joint US/UK DOD program. By the mid nineties, it was pretty clear that al-Qaeda and other terror groups would eventually strike at targets in the US and Britain. Analysis showed New York and London to be the most likely targets."

He paused for another sip. Castle was quiet and still, which Beckett knew meant that he was caught up in the story and didn't want to interrupt. She was getting close to 1PP, but decided to circle around the park, give Gibbs some time to finish his brief without them stopping. If he realized what she was doing, he gave no indication.

"Stormchaser was the program they set up to deal with it. Two teams, one in London, one in New York, each made up of a blend of Army Rangers, Navy SEALs and SAS. They were supported by intel from CIA, NSA, FBI, MI-6 and Scotland Yard, even NCIS. From ninety-seven to early two-thousand, they responded to terror threats with a strike first mentality, both on our soil, and overseas."

"What happened in two-thousand," Beckett asked.

"The program was replaced with what was considered to be an upgrade, the Counter-Terrorist Unit. The Brits have their own model. Similar strike capabilities, but with an expanded personnel pool, upgraded equipment, and their own intel gathering abilities. First owe was set up in DC, then LA. They had a site coming on-line here in New York last year."

"How does all of this tie back in with us, and with Coonan?" Castle asked.

Gibbs answered, "Coonan was part of the New York Stormchaser unit. He was an Army Ranger before going in. Grayson was also part of the unit, Navy SEAL. Part of the reason that Stormchaser was eventually discontinued was a disturbing financial anomaly. Some forty million dollars went missing from black ops accounts with links to Stormchaser. CID investigated, and so did CIA, but the money was never found."

"Forty million?" Castle whistled low through his teeth. "Were Coonan and Grayson suspects?"

"All the guys on that team were initially suspects," Gibbs said. "Then, about nine years ago, with the investigation ongoing, a tip came in that Grayson was the guy. CID went to pull him in for questioning, but he just vanished."

"Now we know why," Beckett said.

"Yeah," Gibbs said. "That original team was made up of three SEALs, two Army Rangers and an SAS Officer. Same day that Grayson disappeared another SEAL, by the name of Mark Hatten, fell off the grid. No one ever found either."

"You think they were working together?" Castle asked. "They stole the money together, then Hatten killed Grayson, took it all for himself and pulled a Claude Raines." He seemed quite pleased with himself, if the smug grin he wore was any indication.

"That was the theory," Gibbs said.

"But you don't believe it," Beckett said, certain she was reading him right.

"No," Gibbs replied.

"What about the other members of the team?" she asked.

"The SAS Officer was a guy by the name of Haversham. He was already back in England, Hereford to be exact, by the time Grayson disappeared. He died in Afghanistan a couple of years ago. The other Army Ranger, Nick Davis was killed in Fallujah during Gulf Two. No trace of anything but the kind of savings he should have had. The last SEAL retired just after the program shut down, guy by the name of Sam Axe…" 

"What a great name for a character in a book," Castle interrupted, then quickly sat back and said, "Sorry."

Gibbs continued. "Moved to Miami. He's been scraping by down there for a decade, mostly living off of rich women and payments for informing to the FBI. Some shady contacts, but nothing to suggest he ever had the money. That leaves Coonan."

"You think he did it?" Castle asked.

"He retired the same time as Axe, went into his charity thing. ICE has him out of the States, building a school near Kabul at the time of Grayson's death."

"But you don't believe that." Kate was beginning to see where this was going.

"My gut says he was here. He killed Grayson, and he killed Hatten. We just don't know about that yet."

"You have any proof?" Beckett asked.

"Nope. Not yet."

"How'd he get back into the country?" Castle asked.

"We trained him how to get in and out of places unnoticed," Gibbs said. "Nobody ever figured he'd end up using it against us."

"So Coonan has the forty million then?" Castle asked.

"Our people have only managed to find about one point three million in various accounts," Beckett answered.

"I put my guy on it last night," Gibbs said. "He piggy-backed off of what your folks had found so far. He located another three hundred thousand in Switzerland, and another two hundred thousand in the Turks and Caicos Islands."

"Oh, I love the T and Cs," Castle said. "I took Alexis there a few years back, and…"

Gibbs cut him off, "Do you think I give a crap about your sex life, Castle? This is not some TV gossip show."

Beckett leaned a little closer to Gibbs and said, in a low voice, "Alexis is Castle's daughter."

"Oh," Gibbs said with a shrug.

"You could try apologizing," Beckett said, after a few seconds of silence.

"Rule Eight," Gibbs replied.

"All right, I'll bite. What's Rule Eight?" from Castle, who was now smirking in the back seat. 

"Never apologize," Gibbs said. "It's a sign of weakness."

Beckett chuckled and shook her head. "Where were we?" she asked.

Gibbs responded with, "You taking the scenic route for a reason, Detective? I'm not giving you cab fare at the end of this ride."

"Just wanted time to talk this all through before we hit One P P," she said. He nodded, as if he'd found her reasoning acceptable.

After another sip of coffee, he said, "I don't think he ever had more than a million or so of that forty."

"Why is that?" Beckett asked.

"If he had forty million, or even half of it, why would he need to start doing contract killings? Why the drug trafficking? No," Gibbs said, "there's a piece missing here. Maybe a few pieces."

"Do you think Kate's Mother's killing was part of all this?" Castle asked. He noticed that the muscles in her upper arms and shoulders tensed, but no sign of any emotion showed on her face.

"Maybe," Gibbs said. "So far as we know, based on the information we have now, her killing might well have been his first. The question is, why her?"

"She was killed almost ten years ago," Castle said.

"Nine years, six months, four days," Beckett said. Gibbs didn't doubt that she could have rattled off the hours as well, if she had felt like it.

"That's about six weeks before the Lieutenant," Gibbs said. "You feel like there might be a connection?" He was watching Beckett out of the corner of his eye.

She bit her bottom lip while running it all through her mind. She'd checked every lead she could find when she first investigated her Mom's case, but there was new information now. Coonan had killed her, but he'd done it because he'd been hired to do it. Could it have been something to do with this? Forty million dollars was a hell of a motive. She looked back to Gibbs, and he didn't even need to hear her answer. He could read it in her eyes.

"Okay," Beckett said. "There is a connection here. How do we go about finding it?"

Gibbs nodded, pleased to see that he'd been right about her. "We start digging, and we don't stop until we find it."


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER TEN – The Digging Begins**

Gibbs, Beckett and Castle spent several hours digging through every unsolved murder case in New York over the last dozen years. They also pulled the files of each one of the cases that had been linked to Coonan, and were mostly closed with his death at Beckett's hand.

As it turned out, when he wasn't actually acting like a child, and when he had reason to focus, Castle was an excellent researcher. Beckett was a little surprised that she'd been surprised by that fact. She should have known he would be.

Gibbs was a harsh taskmaster, allowing few enough breaks, and taking few enough himself, so long as the coffee kept coming, but he did not work any harder than Beckett herself, or Castle either, for that matter, excepting only the brief period where Castle had gone out to pick up sandwiches and drinks for them from a deli down the street.

What they learned was fairly interesting. They identified two more killings that seemed like they might bear looking into, might have been Coonan's, bringing his total, if they did prove to match up, to twelve killings in just over ten years, and that was just in New York. He certainly could have killed elsewhere. A call from Gibbs to someone named Tobias, at the FBI, set that agency to looking for killings outside New York with the same markers.

They also learned that, so far as they could tell, Coonan's earliest killing had been the murder of Johanna Beckett and his last had been his own brother, Jack Coonan. One of the tools they used was to search for patterns. They still hadn't found anything to verify that Coonan had killed Mark Hatten, but it gained them nothing to assume that he hadn't. So they assumed the opposite. Hatten and Grayson were the only two killings, again assuming that Hatten was indeed dead, that had occurred within two weeks of one another, until they took into account one of the two new files. A man by the name of Theodore Warren had died the day after Johanna Beckett. It was iffy though. A single stab wound to the kidney, assuring death almost instantly certainly fit, but there was a lack of secondary wounds, the multiple vicious blows that Coonan delivered to most of his victims in order to hide the skill of the first strike.

"Maybe he heard someone coming and couldn't finish up the way he normally would," Castle said.

"The body was found in an alley off forty-fourth street, just a block from Warren's apartment," Beckett said. "That's a fairly busy area, a good amount of foot traffic."

Gibbs nodded along. "And he was a reporter for the Times?" he asked.

"Yes. Metro Section," Castle said, glancing into the file.

"He might be one of our missing connections," Gibbs said. "What was the original finding on the case?"

Beckett took the file from Castle and flipped a page. "It's Cold," she said. "The original investigating Detective, a Sam Russo from the Twenty-Third Precinct, decided it was likely related to a story he was working on."

"What story?" Castle asked.

"Russo interviewed the guy's Editor, but he didn't know," Beckett answered. "He said Russo had called him the evening before and said he was onto something big, but he didn't have any details yet. The next morning the guy was dead."

"He called the night of your Mother's murder and he was dead the next day," the tone of Gibbs' voice made it clear that he wasn't asking, but rather thinking it through. "Anything else?" he asked.

Beckett continued flipping through the file, but Castle answered from memory. "The Editor told the Detective that Russo always carried a pen and one of those small spiral notebooks with him, so he could jot down ideas, quotes and information from his research, but it wasn't with the body."

"That's what they wanted. Silence him, take the notebook, and kill the story," Gibbs said.

"So we assume that this is somehow related to my Mom's death," Beckett said.

Gibbs took a sip from his coffee, and then nodded. "Doesn't do us any good not to," he said. "We run this down, who knows what we might find."

"It's almost ten years old is the problem," Castle said. "There wasn't much for Russo to run down when it was fresh."

"He didn't have a connection like we do," Beckett answered. Gibbs nodded in approval. "So we assume that he was onto a lead, something Coonan, or those he worked for, didn't want known."

"And we assume that the lead came from Johanna Beckett," Castle said. "Did Russo run his calls?"

"Yes," Beckett said, home and office. "Nothing from my Mom, or her law firm."

"Did she know this guy?" Gibbs asked.

"Not that I remember," Beckett said, but hold on a sec. She stepped into the hall, pulling her cell phone from her pocket. After a moment, her voice drifted in from the hall. "Hey Dad, it's me."

While they waited for Beckett's return, Gibbs and Castle sized one another up from across the table. Thus far, Gibbs had been impressed. What he'd heard about Castle had made him suspect he'd be hoping for DiNozzo's childish antics in comparison, but the man had been well-behaved, and more than a little helpful. Gibbs had to admit, he had good instincts for the work.

"You ever read any of my books?" Castle asked, mainly just to fill the silence.

"Every one," Gibbs said. "Until today I was trying to figure out why you put a bullet in Storm's head."

"But now you get it?" Castle asked.

Gibbs eyes wandered to Detective Beckett, who was lounging against the wall on the far side of the door, just visible from their vantage point. "Partially, at least, I think," Gibbs answered.

"I guess you would understand," Castle said. "After all, you're sort of in the same position that she is."

Gibbs chuckled at that. "I guess I sort of am," he said.

"Your boy's not bad," Castle said. "I really enjoyed Deep Six, and now I see why the characters had such good depth, especially for a first time novelist."

Beckett interrupted their talk by walking back into the room, two sets of eyes swinging toward her, and the smile on her face told them everything they needed to know. "They weren't close or anything," she said, "but he was the friend of one of my Dad's buddies. They attended a few of the same parties."

"That seals it," Gibbs said.

"Not necessarily," Beckett said. "Not enough for a court."

"Enough for my gut," Gibbs said. "Enough for us to know that this is not a waste of our time and resources."

"He's right," Castle said. "This would make a great story. For the first time in several days, Beckett actually laughed. Leave it to Castle to think of things that way.

It was getting on to fairly late afternoon. Gibbs said, "I should meet up with my team back at the hotel. Why don't you take that file over to your M.E., see if she can confirm that the wound from the Warren case matches up with the Coonan cases."

"Looks the same to me," Castle said.

"That's very comforting," Gibbs said.

Castle looked at his watch, "Oooh, yikes. I'm supposed to make dinner for Alexis tonight. Martha's new play started this week."

"You need me to drop you by your apartment?" Beckett asked him, gathering up the files in front of her.

"Nah," he said. "I'll grab a cab. But, you can stop by for ziti a la Castle and tossed salad after you see Lanie," he paused for a second or two, "if you want."

"Sounds good," Beckett said. "You were supposed to give me that recipe last time. Seven okay?"

"Great," he said. "Your hotel is in the same direction as my building," Castle told Gibbs. "You want to share a cab?"

"Sure," the older man said.


	11. Chapter 11

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter may seem a little OOC at some points (I hope not too much), but it just came to me, & I had to write through it.

**CHAPTER ELEVEN – A Forgotten Phone and a Good Kid**

Castle tried to make small talk for the first two or three minutes of the cab ride, but despite Beckett's many disparagements to the contrary, he was a fairly bright guy. It didn't take him long to figure out that Gibbs had no real desire to talk to him, so he let the man relax, though he didn't really believe that either. Castle doubted that Gibbs ever truly relaxed, even in his sleep.

It was only another eight minutes or so before the cab pulled up in front of Castle's building. Gibbs glanced out the cab window. _Pretty ritzy_, he thought. It fit, for Castle.

Castle reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold money clip. There was a roll of fities and hundreds tucked into it. Gibbs started to tell him to put it away, but the man whipped off a fifty and handed it through the window to the driver. "That be enough to get to the Fairmont?" he asked.

"Easily," the driver said. For a wonder, the man was American, and spoke English fluently.

"Keep the change," Castle said. Turning back to Gibbs with a smile, he added, "If I know Beckett, we'll be back by your hotel some time tonight."

"We'll be there," Gibbs said.

Castle went through the large, frosted glass door, held open by the doorman in the deep red uniform, as the cab pulled back out into traffic. He'd made it perhaps another three blocks or so, when a bizarre sound started repeating over and over. It sounded like a young woman shouting, "Dad! Dad! Dad!" and then repeating.

Looking down on the floor on the other side of the cab, he found a cell phone. Castle must have dropped it. The screen said, _Alexis_. He wasn't sure what made him decide to answer it, his gut probably, but he found himself pressing the green button.

"Hello," Gibbs said.

Before he could get in another word, he was bombarded by a young woman's voice. It was clear that she'd been crying, every few words punctuated by a snuffle, "Dad, I'm in the Park, by the fountain. Please come get me."

He tried to get a word in, to tell her that he wasn't her father, but she kept going, talking right over him. "I'm so sorry, Daddy. I should have listened to you about Jeremy. I went out with him after school, and we went for a walk in the park. He tried to buy drugs from some guy and I told him I was leaving. He hit me Daddy. Please come get me." He heard a voice in the background, shouting, though he couldn't make it out.

Again, he tried to tell her he wasn't her father, but she said, "Oh, God, he's here. Come quick, I love you," and she hung up.

His decision made in an instant, he called up to the driver, "Where is the nearest park? How far away?"

"Two minutes, just ahead on the left." 

"Is there a fountain?"

"Yes," the driver said.

Gibbs pulled his badge, flashing it against the glass for the man to see. "Get me to the fountain, now! Drive through the damn grass if you have to."

"Okay, okay," the guy said.

Gibbs thought about calling Castle. He must have a damned listing in his phone for Home, everyone does. Hell, even Gibbs did. Instead, he started fiddling with the phone. They all had the ability to take pictures. Even with his limited technological abilities, he quickly found the pictures stored on Castle's phone. There were several of Detective Beckett, most of them looking as though he'd taken the picture when she wasn't paying attention. There was an older woman, with red hair. She looked vaguely familiar. Mostly, however, there were more than a dozen pictures of a pretty young girl with long, bright red hair. She had eyes of a startling blue, just like her father.

Gibbs felt his heart clench when he saw that first picture. She was maybe three or four years younger than she'd been when they met, but otherwise, she could have been Shannon's sister. "Hurry up!" he snapped at the driver.

The man pulled through the parking lot. There were a number of soccer fields, many of them with kids playing on them. The driver slowed. Pointing across the fields, he said, "The fountain is on the other side there."

"Drive through the fields," Gibbs said. "Use the horn to get them to move."

"I can't do that," the driver said.

"Do it," Gibbs said. "Now!" Once again, he pressed his badge to the glass.

"Damn it," the driver said, gunning the accelerator. The cab jumped once, then again, as each set of wheels went up over the curb. The driver laid upon the horn, repeatedly. People shouted and waved their arms, but they all moved well out of the way.

Gibbs eyes scanned out the window, searching for any sign of that bright red hair. It didn't take long. "To the left," he said, grabbing the handle of the door.

The cabbie veered left, pulling up short of the fountain. Gibbs had the door open and was out of the cab in a flash.

The young woman and a boy maybe a year or two older were arguing, near the fountain. She wore a pale red sweatshirt and blue jeans. The boy hovered over her, in what was clearly meant to be an intimidating stance. It didn't seem to back her down.

"You're a jerk!" she yelled at him. "Just get away from me."

"Don't be a bitch, Lex," the boy said. He tried to grab her by the shoulder, but she twisted away.

"Don't touch me," she said.

He tried to grab her again. "Hey!" Gibbs yelled.

The kid stepped back for a second, in surprise. After his initial shock, he turned to Gibbs and said, "Beat it, Pops."

He was big, almost six feet, and probably a football player. Gibbs had played in school. He recognized the type. The problem for the kid was that he didn't recognize Gibbs type.

"Get out of here, kid," Gibbs said. "Alexis said she didn't want you around anymore."

Both kids seemed surprised by Gibbs' use of her full first name.

"What are you, her Granddad," the kid asked. "I know you're not her Dad."

"Just a friend," Gibbs replied. He'd managed to get within a step of them. Alexis had taken a half-step behind him.

"Actually, I don't give a crap who you are, old man," the kid said. "Leave us alone. We were talking."

"No," Alexis said. "We're done talking."

The kid tried to give Gibbs the hard-eyed stare. It was almost laughable. "If you don't move, Pops, you're gonna get hurt," he said. He reached out his hand toward Gibbs' chest, intending to push him back. In half a second, the kid was face down on the ground, Gibbs' knee firmly planted in the center of his back, one arm levered painfully up behind him.

"Hey man, what the f#$!" the kid shouted. He finally spotted the gun on Gibbs' hip. "Oh, don't shoot me man."

Gibbs leaned down until his lips were an inch or so, from the kid's ear. He said in a very low, matter of fact voice. "I know who you are, Jeremy. If you ever touch Alexis again, if you even speak to her without asking permission first, I'm gonna make you wish you'd never been born."

"You can't…" the kid began, but was cut off by Gibbs, who twisted his arm just a little tighter.

"Now, you can walk out of here, now, under your own power, or I can have you hauled out of here and arrested for assaulting a Federal Agent. Might take your parents two or three days to get you out, and who knows what could happen to you before then? What's it gonna be kid?"

"Fine," the kid said. "Just let me go."

Gibbs stood up, releasing him. Jeremy stood up, tried to look away so, that they couldn't see the tears in his eyes, and then started running in the opposite direction.

Gibbs turned toward Alexis. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said. There was a red mark on her face, where the kid had hit her. He hadn't noticed that at first, luckily for Jeremy.

"My name's Jethro," he said. "Jethro Gibbs." He showed her his badge and held out a hand.

"I'd introduce myself," she said, "but you seem to know me already." She took his hand and shook it.

"Come on," he said. "Let's get you home, Miss Castle." He gestured toward the cab, still idling on the grass nearby, the driver standing next to his door, somewhat slack-jawed.

Alexis let him lead her toward the cab. "Did my Dad send you?" she asked, or Detective Beckett.

"Nope," Gibbs said. He held up Castle's phone and said, "he forgot his phone when he got out of the cab we shared. I tried to tell you…"

"But I was talking a mile a minute," Alexis said.

"Can't say as I blame you, considering," he said. She got into the cab and slid over, making room for him. When the driver got back in, Gibbs said, "Back to our last stop please."

"You got it man," the cabbie said, grinning. He'd enjoyed the show. He put the car in gear and turned back across the fields.

"Isn't this illegal?" Alexis asked.

"Probably," Gibbs answered with one of his rare smiles, "but I won't tell anyone if you won't."

In a few minutes, they were back out in front of Castle's building. Gibbs handed Alexis her Dad's phone. He'd intended to head straight back to the hotel, figuring she'd be safe enough inside her own building, but she refused to take no for an answer when she asked him to come upstairs.

In the ride up on the elevator, Gibbs tried to figure out how she'd managed to get her way with him. It had been a pretty long time since he'd been pushed into something like this.

She opened the door to Castle's penthouse apartment, which sat on the twentieth, and uppermost floor of the building. She tossed her book bag down on the floor and started moving forward, beckoning him to follow.

Gibbs stepped through the doorway, allowing the door to close behind him. A voice, Castle's, came from somewhere ahead, "Alexis, honey is that you? How was your day at school?"

The man himself appeared in the doorway to the kitchen a second later, and was hit by the redheaded guided missile that was his daughter. Her arms wrapped tight around his middle as she buried her face in his chest.

"Hey sweetie," he said, returning her hug. "What's that for? I missed you too." His eyes suddenly widened as he looked down, seeing the big red mark on her cheek. "Did someone hit you, Pumpkin?"

At that moment, he looked up and noticed Gibbs standing near the door for the first time. For an instant, fury flashed through his mind. Gibbs had hit his daughter! And then logic overrode that protective parental instinct. He asked, "What happened?"

The question was directed to both Alexis and Gibbs, but it was Castle's daughter who responded first. Gibbs let her tell the story in her own words, not bothering to try to interrupt or correct her at any point. He came out of it sounding like a white knight.

By the time it was done, they were all seated on stools in the kitchen, a glass of juice poured out for Alexis, and Glenlevit on ice for Gibbs & Castle. When she'd finished both her juice and her story, Alexis got up. She kissed her Dad on the cheek, and then Gibbs as well. "I have homework to do before dinner," she said, moving to retrieve her book bag.

"I don't know how to thank you," Castle said.

"Don't bother," Gibbs said. "She's a great kid."

"Yeah, she is," Castle said. "The best. You wanna stay for pasta? It's the least I can offer you."

"No thanks," Gibbs said. "I should get going." He started toward the door, but stopped and turned back. "I assume you know what to do about this Jeremy."

"I would kill him," Castle said, "but with my luck, Beckett would end up with the case and put me away for twenty years, or shoot him herself, I'm not sure which."

Gibbs chuckled. "See you in the morning, Castle," he said.

"Hey," Castle said. "I think it's okay if you call me Rick at this point."

"G'night, Castle" Gibbs said, closing the door behind himself as he stepped out into the hall.

Castle chuckled to himself and returned to the kitchen to finish making dinner and plotting Jeremy's unfortunate accident.


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER TWELVE – A Productive First Day & Dinner with Kate**

When Gibbs returned to the hotel, he found that he was the last of his team to arrive. The others were all sitting in the hotel restaurant, at a large, round table. As he came through the door, Kate signaled to the waitress, and a steaming hot cup of coffee arrived at his seat at roughly the same time he did. There was a large platter of mixed, hot appetizers in the center of the table, roughly half gone. Gibbs selected an egg roll and what appeared to be a buffalo chicken tender.

"We ordered apps, but held off ordering the meal, Boss," Tony said, producing a menu from the booth seat next to him and handing it over to Gibbs.

"What did you find," Gibbs asked as he flipped the menu open. DiNozzo and Kate both started to answer at once, then both stopped. Tony nodded to her, that she could go ahead, picking up the beer in front of him and having a sip.

A couple of years ago, Gibbs would have given him a ration for drinking during the investigation, his own scotch at castle's place aside, but he was certain it was non-alcoholic. He could count on one hand the number of drinks Tony had had since his return from the Seahawk.

"We didn't find much at the Navy Yard," Kate said. We went through all the old records we could find, but there wasn't much that was really interesting. We found the on-base housing that was used by both Hatten and Grayson before they disappeared. The current occupants allowed us to conduct a fairly thorough search. We didn't find anything that CID didn't find during their initial investigation. The only thing that caught our eye was in the file on the SEAL that retired, Sam Axe."

The waitress returned to the table and took an order from everyone, including another round of drinks. Gibbs had been right. DiNozzo asked for another O'Doul's. When she'd gone again, Kate continued. "Turns out that Axe has been hanging out with an old associate down in Miami, a guy by the name of Michael Westen. Westen used to work for the CIA, but he was Burned a little over two years ago. No one seems to know why. He's been getting by doing odd jobs in the Miami area, some of them with Axe's help."

"Anything else on him?" Gibbs asked.

Kate said, "There was a non-punitive Letter of Reprimand in Axe's file, over a fistfight he had in a bar, here in New York, during his tour with the Shadowchaser team. The fight was with Coonan. I couldn't find a similar letter in Coonan's file though."

"Any idea what the fight was about?" Tony asked.

"It wasn't in there," Kate said.

"You can ask Axe when you go to interview him," Gibbs told her.

"I think I should go with her," Ziva said. All eyes turned to her when she spoke.

"Why is that Ziver?" Gibbs asked.

"Because I have worked with Michael Westen in the past, twice on joint operations between CIA and Mossad."

"Really?" Tony asked. "I'd say that qualified as a fairly large coincidence if I didn't know Gibbs' policy on coincidences."

Ignoring DiNozzo, Ziva said, "The first op was in Egypt, and the second in Nigeria. He performed admirably both times."

"What do you think about this Burn Notice?" Gibbs asked.

"It is suspicious," Ziva said. "In my experience, Westen was intelligent, capable, and very patriotic. A very unlikely candidate to have turned."

"And did he trust you?"

"Both operations went very well. Neither of us had a reason to doubt the other, during or after."

"Alright," Gibbs said. "You go down there with Kate in the morning. Call Esposito and have him go with you. That keeps Beckett's team in the loop."

"No problem, Gibbs," Kate said. Ziva merely nodded.

"What about you and Ziva," Gibbs asked DiNozzo, but before he could answer, the waitress arrived with their dinners. It took a moment, but soon enough everything was settled, and she headed off to see to her other customers.

Tony cut into his steak, checking that it was indeed done to his liking. It was. He said, "We talked to everyone over there who was around when Shadowchaser was going on. No one remembered a lot. We also got the names of all the people who retired or transferred. Ran down about half of those. We'll take care of the rest first thing in the morning." After a second's pause, he said, "I'll get McGee to help me on that, since Ziva will be in Miami."

"You get anything useful?" Gibbs asked.

"Not yet," Tony shrugged, then downed a bite of steak, washing it down with a swallow of O'Doul's.

"Anyone have anything to say about Coonan?" Gibbs asked.

"He was not very well liked," Ziva said. "Although, we knew that already."

He proceeded to fill them in on what he'd found, along with Castle and Detective Beckett, regarding the murdered reporter. "We'll look into that in the morning," he said to Tony. Then, unless something else keeps us here, we'll head back to Washington, keep working from there."

"Sounds good, Boss," Tony said.

Kate Beckett knocked on Castle's door. She waited just a moment before it swung open. "Detective Beckett, come on in," Alexis said.

"What happened to your face?" Kate asked, rather bluntly. She was surprised by the bruise that was beginning to turn purplish. She hung her coat on the rack near the door while Alexis detailed her experience from earlier in the day. "It doesn't really hurt anymore, unless I poke at it."

"Then I'd suggest you stop poking at it," Castle said, coming out of the kitchen, and wrapping his arms around his daughter from behind, resting his chin atop her head.

"Thanks, Dad," Alexis said, sarcasm dripping from her voice, a tone she'd learned from him, but there was a smile on her face, and she held his arms as he hugged her.

Castle finally let her go, and said, "Welcome, Kate. Can I get you something? A glass of wine, perhaps. I just opened a very nice Pinot Grigio."

"That sounds nice," she said.

"And it will go very nicely with dinner," he said.

She smiled. The man could cook. That was one thing she'd learned about him. She'd had pasta a la Castle before.

"I was just about to get started on dinner," he said. "You want to give me a hand?"

"Sure," she said, following him into the kitchen. Alexis planted herself on a stool on the other side of the counter, in front of her open American History book.

Castle moved straight to the stove, where a large pasta pot was boiling away. He took a bowl of what appeared to be whole wheat ziti sitting nearby and dumped it into the water.

"What can I do?" Beckett asked.

"There's a cutting board next to the microwave," he said. "I grilled some chicken breasts last night and put them in a Tupperware bowl on the second shelf. You could take them out and cube them up for me," he said.

She pulled a kitchen knife from the set next to the fridge, retrieved the cutting board and the chicken and set about to do as he'd asked, while he gathered all the ingredients he needed to start the sauce.

As they worked, she asked, "So, what are you going to do about this Jeremy?"

"Nothing," he said, much to Kate's surprise. He pulled a large, deep sauce pan from beneath the oven and gave it a quick wipe before setting it on a burner, setting the heat to medium-low.

"Really?" she asked.

"Don't get me wrong," he said. "I have about a million ideas." He poured a small amount of chicken stock from a can he opened into the bottom of the sauce pan and added several thick slices from a stick of butter. Kate could already see the calories widening her backside. He continued, "However, Alexis told me she wants to handle it herself."

"That's very enlightened of you," Kate said. She'd finished with the chicken, and had set it aside in a bowl he'd provided.

"That's why he's the greatest Dad ever," Alexis said, without looking up from her studies. "Well, one reason, anyway." Castle just grinned.

He handed over a pair of cloves from bud of garlic and a press, and said, "Your next job is to peel and then press those."

He poured a little of the pinot into the saucepan, and squeezed in the juice from a quarter of a lemon, stirring to mix the stock, butter lemon juice and wine, then ground a little bit of sea salt, and some black pepper over the top. Kate used the side of the knife to crush each clove, making them easier to peel. Once she had them peeled, she ran each one through the press, and then used the knife to make sure they were minced fine.

Castle took one red and one yellow bell pepper from the fridge and rinsed them in the sink, as well as a good-sized handful of green beans. He set them next to the cutting board and scooped up the garlic, tossing it into the saucepan and stirring again. The aroma was starting to make Kate's stomach growl.

She rinsed the knife and board, and her hands, then set to work cutting the pepper into strips while he removed the pasta from the stovetop. He emptied the water, leaving the pasta in the pot, in the sink for the moment.

While she finished up the vegetables, she asked, "So, what did you come up with?"

"For Jeremy?" he asked as he sprinkled just a touch of chopped oregano into the saucepan. She nodded. "My favorite idea was dragging him out of his apartment, and stringing him up naked, by his ankles from the flagpole in front of his building, and using him as a piñata."

Kate chuckled, handing over the vegetables, which he promptly dropped into the saucepan, along with the grilled chicken. He turned the temperature up to Medium-High, stirred it all around a bit and then put a lid on top, letting it cook.

Noticing how far along they were, Alexis closed her book and began setting the table. "Just the three of us?" she asked.

Castle looked to Beckett for an answer. "I didn't invite anyone," she said.

"I thought maybe Esposito, or Ryan might pop in," Castle said.

"I suppose they could," she answered, taking a sip of the wine, "but I don't know about it." She moved to the sink, rinsing the knife, and putting it straight into the dishwasher, then rinsing and drying the cutting board.

Castle lifted the lid on the saucepan, and decided he liked what he saw. He upended the pasta pot, and set it aside, stirring the ziti in with the chicken, veggies and sauce before replacing the lid.

At his request, Beckett took the large wooden bowl he'd tossed the salad in earlier from the fridge and set it on the table. Alexis took out a bottle of peppercorn ranch dressing and a bottle of lite French. She put them on the table, and added cruets of olive oil, red wine vinegar and balsamic vinegar, plus salt and pepper shakers.

Castle took the cutting board and selected a slicing knife. He removed a loaf of Syrian blackbread from a paper bag on the counter and cut several thick slices, setting them on a plate, which he handed to Alexis. She deposited it on the table, along with a butter dish and an unmarked plastic container of what looked like some sort of golden brown butter.

"You guys really have this down to a science," she said, a smile toying with her lips. She enjoyed watching Castle and Alexis together. The bond they shared reminded her of the one she'd had with her own mother, once upon a time.

"We get a lot of practice, right Pumpkin?"

"Yeah," Alexis said. "She's okay in the kitchen, but Gram is happier if she doesn't have to be in here."

Seeing Beckett stare at the container, Castle said. "That's homemade honey-ginger butter for the blackbread, from Arrabietta's down the street." He kissed the tips of his fingers and then spread them, in a gesture meant to let her know just how good he thought the combination to be.

"Sounds great," she said.

"It is," Alexis said. "You'll love it." She set three fresh dinner plates on the counter, while Castle turned off the burner under the sauce. He set the lid aside and spooned a healthy portion of Chicken and Ziti a la Castle onto each plate. Before allowing them each to take a plate to their seat, he removed a glass bowl from the fridge. "The finishing touch," he said as sprinkled a bit of shredded cheese over the top of each plate, a blend of Asiago, Romano and Parmesan.

They each took a plate to the table. Castle poured the last of the wine, splitting it between his glass and Kate's, and returned to the kitchen. He left the empty bottle on the counter next to the sink, and opened another. He took another wine glass from the rack and poured just a touch into it, setting it next to Alexis.

"Dad," she said. "we've been over this, remember?"

"I only poured you enough to taste, with your pasta. It's a really nice combination."

"I'm only seventeen."

"If you don't want to drink it," he said, "you don't have to, but I, for one, trust that you won't start binge drinking because I gave you a few sips of wine with dinner, just like I trust you to handle Jeremy your own way."

Alexis looked thoughtful at that. Kate just smiled and slathered some of the exotic butter onto a slice of bread. "Mmmm," she murmured. Castle was right. The combination was outstanding.

"See," he said. "I knew you'd like it."

About halfway through dinner, her phone rang. She excused herself and went out to the kitchen to answer it. She returned a few minutes later.

"That was Gibbs," she said. She filled him in on what Gibbs' team had discussed. She had already talked to Esposito after seeing Lanie, so some she'd already known. "He'll pick us up here tomorrow at eight. We're going to go and talk with Detective Russo, and then he wants to head back down to Washington."

"Us too?" Castle asked.

"That's the plan," she said.

"What about Alexis?" he asked, turning to his daughter. "With Martha doing her play, I can't just leave you here alone," he said, "especially after today. Maybe I should stay here."

Kate was disappointed by the thought, though she certainly understood it. Without even meaning to, she'd let Castle become an ever larger part of her life. She could no longer imagine her days without him around. She was surprised by how much the thought of him not being with her on this case pained her.

Alexis could clearly read the disappointment of Detective Beckett's face, though it amused her to note that her Dad, the guy who noticed almost every little detail seemed to completely miss it. "I'll be fine for a few days, Dad," she said.

"I don't know…" he started to say, but she interjected, "Gram is home mornings, and at night after her play closes, well usually anyway." Kate stifled a laugh. Martha Rodgers was as much a character as any character she ever played.

"I'd probably get into less trouble than if you were here to egg me on," Alexis said, pointing to her still untouched wine.

"That's probably true," he admitted, "but still…"

Suddenly, her face broke into that trademark grin she'd inherited from him. "Or," she said, pausing for what Kate was certain was dramatic effect, "since tomorrow is Friday, I could go the train station after school, and come down to Washington for the weekend."

Castle brightened a bit at that. So did Kate, though she did her best to hide it.

"I loved Washington when we took that trip for school," Alexis said. "Plus, I could visit the Waverly campus, see if it's really the kind of place I'd like to go."

"I guess that would be alright," Castle said. "But you'll have to bring your cell phone charger. If you're going to be wandering around Washington, I want you to check in with me every two hours."

Alexis grinned again. He'd barely put up a fight. Of course, Castle was right about her. She was a great kid, and way more responsible than he was. She should probably make him check in with her, rather than the other way round.

"I'll have Ryan call you tomorrow to check up. If you need a ride to the station, he can help you out," Kate said.

"He's not going with you?" Alexis asked. "What about Detective Esposito?"

"Esposito's going," Kate said, "but Ryan is handling the Squad Room while we work on this case." Castle had told Alexis about some of it, but he hadn't been sure how much Kate would be comfortable with him saying. He shouldn't have been worried, he thought. Kate answered all of the questions Alexis peppered her with. They really got along well. They had from day one.

After they finished the meal, and the obligatory pistachio ice cream that Castle produced from the freezer, they spent twenty minutes cleaning up the kitchen. They made up a plate for Martha, wrapped it and put it in the fridge, in case she wanted to reheat it later.

Beckett thanked them for the meal and the company, then went home to pack. Alexis watched her Dad close the door, then hugged him fiercely. "You really like her, don't you?" she asked.

He knew what she meant, and he briefly considered deflecting, but instead he decided, as he almost always did, that he would be as honest as possible with her. "Yeah, I like her a lot."

"She likes you too, you know," Alexis called out over her shoulder as she headed up the stairs, toward her room.

"Not quite in the same way though," he said.

She stopped, turning to face him and leaning on the railing. "Trust me on this, Dad," she said. "She likes you in exactly the same way. She just doesn't know how to admit it. She might not even realize it yet herself."

"How did you get so smart?" he asked.

"Beats me," she answered playfully. "Was I adopted?"

"Go to your room!" he shouted, feigning anger, which she well knew. It wasn't much of a punishment, even if he'd actually been angry, since that's where she'd been headed anyway.

"Okay," she said with a laugh, trotting up the last few steps.

Just before she hit the doorway, he called after her, "I love you, Pumpkin."

"I love you too, Dad."


	13. Chapter 13

AUTHOR'S NOTE: We finally reach the long awaited and promised appearance of Michael, Sam, Fiona & Maddie, from USA's Burn Notice. Like the characters of NCIDS, Bones & Castle, I own none of them, never have, never will. I'm merely borrowing them for short time. I hope you all enjoy. As always, comments and criticisms are appreciated equally, G

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN – Interviews in Miami and New York**

The following morning, Castle was up bright and early. He was showered and shaved, packed and ready to go by six-thirty. Beckett came by around seven. He had egg scrambles, with crispy crumbled bacon, cheddar and thin slices of browned kielbasa in a pan waiting when she arrived.

Syrian bread toast, with honey-ginger butter rounded out the meal, along with some fresh squeezed orange juice.

"How do you stay so thin?" Kate asked Alexis when Castle went upstairs to grab his suitcase. "He's a great cook."

"He is a good cook," Alexis laughed, "but he doesn't always put in this much effort. When he knows you're coming by, he puts on his A game." Kate couldn't help but smile.

"What are the two of you grinning about?" Castle asked as he walked back into the room. "Something to do with me, I hope."

The two women shared a quick look and then replied as one, "Nope." His crestfallen look was enough to make them both burst out in laughter, largely because they both knew it for the act that it was.

Beckett helped Alexis with a quick bit of makeup to cover the bruise on her cheek. Alexis hugged her, and then her Dad before gathering up her book bag and heading out the door to school.

"Thanks for that," Castle said. "Martha could have helped her, but she didn't get in until after four, so she won't be up until sometime around noon."

"It's no problem," Beckett said, reaching into the fridge to put the juice away. "She's great." When she closed the fridge door, she realized that he was leaning against the counter, just watching her. She immediately became self-conscious, something she'd been experiencing more and more around him, of late. She tucked few stray hairs behind her ear, and then asked, "Is there something wrong? What are you staring at, Castle?"

He answered simply. "You, Katie. You're beautiful."

It was an answer she hadn't expected. First off, he never called her Katie. Only her Dad called her that. Usually it was Beckett, or Detective Beckett, occasionally Kate, and even less frequently KB, but never Katie. Second, she got no sense that he was playing with her. He seemed serious, which was a pretty rare thing, in its own right.

"Thank you," she said, in a hesitant voice. She wasn't used to this. She knew men were attracted to her. That had been the way of things for most of her life. In general, she would ignore them, or thank them and move on without a backward glance. And she knew for a surefire fact that Castle wanted her. He'd made no secret of it from the day they'd met.

She was saved from any further pondering, at least for the moment, when her phone rang. It was Gibbs. She answered, "Beckett."

The discussion was short and to the point. He said, "Downstairs in five," and hung up on her.

"They'll be here in five minutes," she told Castle, happy to have something to say to him that would allow them to move past the awkward moment.

He said, "I'll grab my bag, meet you by the door."

She nodded and headed for the door. Her own bag was sitting just inside.

In three minutes they were downstairs, standing outside on the sidewalk. One of the dark Dodge sedans pulled up to the curb, the trunk popping open as it did. Castle took Beckett's bag from her, placing hers, and his own in the trunk, while she climbed into the back seat. Once in, she slid across to the other side, allowing him to get in next to her without stepping out into traffic.

"What's the best route to get to the Twenty-Third Precinct?" Gibbs asked, though DiNozzo was driving.

"You don't want to go to the Twenty-Third," Beckett said. "Russo transferred to the Thirty-Eighth last year. Head uptown and make a left on Seventh."

"Left on Seventh," DiNozzo repeated, slipping the car back out into the flow of traffic and moving into the left lane.

"I called Russo last night," Beckett said. "He'll be expecting us. Said he'd dig out his old case notes, just in case there's something in there that didn't make it into the file."

"Good thinking, Detective," Gibbs said.

"We have to make a quick stop on the way, though," she said.

"You forget to use the little girl's room before we left?" Castle asked.

"Protocol," DiNozzo said. "You get a Detective to do you a favor, dig up one of his old cases, you bring him a cup of coffee, or maybe a coffee and a doughnut."

"I guess that makes sense," Castle said.

Twenty minutes later, they were sitting in the conference room at the Thirty-Eighth Precinct, with Detective Russo. He was in his mid-fifties with very little remaining hair and a good-sized belly. He'd given up on belts and wore suspenders to keep his pants up. His shirt was crisp and white, with the sleeves rolled up on the inside, with a pale yellow tie.

"So," Russo said. "I missed something nine years ago, huh?" He took a large bite of the bear claw they'd brought him, and washed it down with a sip of coffee.

"I don't think so," Beckett said. "We got to you through new information. Stuff you didn't know nine years ago."

"Can you run through the case with us?" DiNozzo asked.

"Yeah, sure," Russo said. He opened a three ring binder he'd brought in with him.

"I got a call around seven-fifteen. I'd just gotten to my desk at the two-three. Went down to Forty-Fourth Street. The vic, Theodore Warren, Teddy to his friends, was lying in an alley just off Forty-Fourth. He was only about ten feet in, single stab wound in the back. M.E. said that the knife shredded the kidney, fairly long, sharp blade. Guy probably bled out in less than five minutes." He took another sip. "Wallet was gone, so my first thought was that it was a mugging gone bad. Wasn't until after I talked to the guy's Editor that I realized he didn't have his little notebook and pen, the one the Editor said he kept with him at all times."

"That's what made you think the attack might have been related to a story?" Gibbs asked.

"Yeah. The Editor talked to him the night before, around seven-thirty. Said Warren told him he was onto a big story, anonymous source, something really major. He was supposed to meet the source the following morning. He, or she, was going to give Warren some serious evidence. The Editor asked him for details, but Warren said he didn't have any to give yet. We tore the guy's apartment apart, same with his cabin in the Adirondacks. Got a warrant for a safety deposit box he had at City National Bank, the branch on Forty-First. All he had in there was some old coins. We found out the guy was a collector. Total value, maybe thirty grand."

"Did you ever run down his calls, cell, home, work?" DiNozzo asked.

"Yeah, all three. The paper even let us trace his work line." Nothing useful came up. All the leads that led anywhere, I listed in the official file."

"Did you have any that didn't lead anywhere?" That last was from Castle.

"A couple," Russo said. "I've got the full list here somewhere." He dug around in his notes for a moment, and produced a page. There were a couple of extra numbers. "I'll make you a couple of copies of that if you want."

"What's this number here?" Beckett asked. "He received two calls from this number the day before he died."

Russo took a leather case from his shirt pocket and removed a pair of reading glasses, balancing them on his nose. He took the paper from her and looked at the number. After a quick moment of thought, he said, "It was a pay phone, at a little coffee house in Manhattan. We talked to the manager and all the employees who worked that day. Took prints off the phone. Got something like eleven sets. We could ID three people off the prints. It all came up zilch."

"No security cameras in the place?" DiNozzo asked.

"They had one, but it didn't actually work," Russo said. "It was just for show."

"Any others?" Beckett asked. "A bank nearby, anything like that?"

"Not back then," Russo replied. "Might be now."

"What was the name of the place?" Castle asked.

"Manhattan Beans."

Kate froze. Her mom often had a large cup of coffee with her when she came home from the law firm. It was always a brown and white cup from Manhattan Beans. There were two other coffee shops closer, but she loved the Jamaican mocha blend at Manhattan Beans.

"That's it," Kate said. "That's the link we've been looking for."

Gibbs didn't ask. He simply raised an eyebrow.

"My mom got coffee from that place two, three times a day. She used to walk by other places to go there. If she was his source, then we have a reason for them both to be killed within hours of one another, both by Coonan." She paused a moment, letting it settle in her own mind, and then said, "Those calls to Warren were from her."

"Yup," Gibbs said. "They were."

"If she was a lawyer, her fingerprints would have been in the system," DiNozzo said. Her name is not on the list of hits Detective Russo got from the prints on the phone.

"She was killed in late September," Castle suggested. "It very well could have been cold enough for her to wear gloves."

"That would explain it," Tony admitted.

"So we know that your Mother had some information, something big, and she was going to tell Teddy Warren about it," Castle said, thinking out loud. "She calls him from a payphone at Manhattan Beans, twice. Why twice?"

"The first call was short," Russo said, looking at his sheet. "Less than a minute. Maybe she got his answering machine. She could have hung up and called back. Second call lasted just over three minutes."

"That makes sense," Castle agreed. "The second call is long enough for her to say who she is, tell him she has information, but not get into specifics, which she wouldn't have wanted to do in a public place anyway. They agree to meet, set a time and place, but before she can tell him what she knows, she's killed by Coonan, and hours later, so is he."

"Why the pay phone?" Gibbs asked.

"What do you mean?" Castle wondered.

"She was a partner in a major law firm, one just a short distance from this coffee shop. Why did she call him from the pay phone? Why not use the phone in her office. It would be private, and she could tell him whatever she wanted."

"The firm's switchboard could find the number," Beckett said.

"She could have stayed in her office for the privacy and called from her cell," Dinozzo suggested.

"It had to do with her firm," Castle said. "That's a great twist for the story." It was clear from his expression that Gibbs had already made that leap.

"She could have been afraid that they bugged her office, maybe even the house or her car," DiNozzo said. "If you can't be sure there are no taps on your phone, you use a pay phone."

"I went through every case my mom had when she died. There was nothing there, not that might cause this."

"I'm surprised the firm let you look through her cases," Castle said.

"It wasn't exactly official," Kate said, lowering her eyes.

"You stole case files?" DiNozzo asked. "I never would have thought."

"I didn't steal anything," Beckett said. "Her secretary, Margaret, brought me case files every night after work for a month."

"Just her cases?" Gibbs aked.

"They were the only ones she could get," Beckett answered.

"I didn't hear any of that," Russo said. "I'm gonna go make you those copies now," he said. He paused in the doorway and turned back to face Beckett. "Detective, I hope to hell you nail this bastard," he said.

"We will," Beckett and Gibbs both said.

Ziva, Kate Todd and Esposito stepped off the plane at Miami Airport. The heat and humidity were like a slap in the face. "Damn it's hot," Esposito said.

"It is not so bad," Ziva said. "Although it is a bit sticky."

Before long, they had a rental car, a dark red Taurus. Esposito couldn't help but to wonder why all the color drained from Kate's face when Ziva took the keys to drive. He didn't wonder for long. By the time they reached the last known address for Sam Axe, courtesy of the IRS, he nearly had to peel his fingers from the dash, and his face was every bit as grey as Kate's had been.

He opened the door and stepped out of the car, thanking God that he might have another chance to live. "You're crazy. How the hell did you get a damn license?" he pointed across the roof of the car at Ziva.

Kate stepped onto the curb from the back seat. "That was pretty tame for her," Kate said. Esposito assumed she was kidding.

They walked up the front walk. The house was not overly large, but it seemed well kept up. As they approached the door, a woman opened it. She appeared to be in her sixties, her hair gone grey. She wore a loose fitting dress, not quite a muumuu, but not far from it. She had a cigarette stuck in the corner of her mouth.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked.

Kate flashed her badge to the woman. "I'm Special Agent Todd of NCIS. This is Special Agent David, and Detective Javier Esposito of the NYPD. We're looking for a man by the name of Sam Axe. This was his last known address."

"Well, that's an impressive list of titles and agencies," the woman said. "I'm Madeleine."

"Madeleine," Esposito asked. "No last name?"

The woman's eyes narrowed a bit, but she said, "Westen."

"As in the mother of Michael Westen," Ziva said.

"You know Michael and Sam?" Madeleine asked.

"I know Michael," Ziva said. "We've worked together in the past."

"And just what do you folks want from Sam?"

"We just need to talk to him, ma'am," Kate said.

Madeleine seemed to consider this for a moment, and then said, "He moved in with the lady who lives behind me." As they turned to start that way, she called out, "But, he's not over there."

"Where can we find him, Mrs. Westen?" Esposito asked.

"I don't know," she said, "but he and Michael left about an hour ago. If you'd like to come inside and wait for a while, I could call them."

"That would be great, Madleiene," Kate said.

Madeleine made a quick phone call. While they waited, they learned that accepting a cookie from Madeleine was a good way to earn a free trip to the emergency room.

Esposito was shocked. He'd seen chain smokers before, but never anything like Madeleine Westen.

They only had to wait for twenty minutes or so, when a black, nineteen-seventy-three Dodge Charger Rally Edition pulled up outside. Esposito whistled through his teeth. "That's a sweet ride."

"That looks quite a bit like Gibbs' car," Ziva said, "except for the color."

"Your boss drives a seventy-three Rally edition?" Esposito asked.

Kate answered, "No, a seventy-one RT hemi."

"Whoa. What color is his?"

"Yellow," Kate said, "with black racing stripes."

A man got out of the Charger. They all recognized the man immediately, from the file pictures they had, as Sam Axe. He took a few slow steps toward the house.

Madeleine moved toward the door to open it, when Ziva suddenly spun around, her Sig coming out of the holster, and up. "Hello Michael," she said.

A shape that none of the others had heard, or seen, slipped into the room, from the kitchen, a Glock Nine pointed at the center point between the three strangers.

Esposito started to reach for his gun, but a tiny red dot appeared on the center of his chest. He froze.

"Hold," Ziva ordered. Kate froze, trusting in her partner. Axe charged up the last few steps, drawing a Colt .45 from the rear of his waistband.

Michael Westen held the gun steady, not quite ready to believe what his eyes were telling him. Sam opened the door and trained his gun on the strangers as well.

Michael looked at the young woman who looked so much like someone he'd once known. "Who are you?" he asked. She had not put down her gun yet, but she was no longer pointing it at him, instead letting it hang down by her side.

"I am Ziva David," she said. "You know me."

In a calm, controlled voice, he said, "Ziva David died off the coast of Africa over a year ago."

"No Michael," she said, "that was a cover for a mission. It is me."

"Then tell me, Ziva David, what kind of rations did we have our first night in Egypt, when we were chasing that gun runner?"

Ziva smiled, and then answered. "We were not chasing a gun runner in Egypt. That was Nigeria, and we were not chasing him, but supplying him. The guns we gave him had a pair of remote activated tracking devices in the handles of two of the weapons, so we could follow the man to the rebel camp where he would sell the guns. And, in Egypt, my first ration was a can of peaches. Yours was vanilla yogurt."

The answers were right, and only Ziva should know the answer about the rations. One more question to be sure. "Who kissed whom in Cairo?"

"You kissed me," Ziva said, "but only to sell our cover as a married couple on vacation when you noticed an Egyptian Security man watching us."

Michael lowered his weapon, and signaled Sam to do the same. "We're clear Fi (Fee)," he said, and the red dot disappeared from Esposito's chest.

"What the hell is going on here," Esposito said, his hand drifting toward his holster.

"I would not touch that weapon if were you, Detective," Ziva said. "Michael was just making sure that I was indeed who I claimed to be. Michael Westen, this is Special Agent Caitlyn Todd of NCIS, and Detective Javier Esposito of the New York Police Department. We need to ask your friend Sam some questions relating to a homicide case in New York."

Michael put away his weapon, as did Sam and Ziva.

"Sorry about the guns, guys," Sam said. "You never can be too careful, you know. Maddie," he said, "you mind if I grab a beer?"

"Go ahead Sweetie," she said, while lighting another cigarette. "I just put a six pack in the fridge this morning."

"Anyone else want a beer?" Sam asked as he passed Michael on his way into the kitchen. No one did.

"You left Mossad for NCIS?" Michael asked Ziva.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I finally came to realize that the people at NCIS are more of a family than my own father will ever be."

The front door opened again and a slender woman carrying a sniper rifle nearly a third her size walked in. Esposito shook his head. This was insane. The woman glanced at him and winked. She set the rifle in a corner of the room and sat down at one end of the couch. "So, what is all of this about?" she asked.

The danger past, Maddie managed to get everyone settled with iced tea, or a beer, or in Michael's case, yogurt.

"What exactly do you folks need to ask me about?" Sam asked.

"Project Stormchaser," Kate answered.

"Whoa, that's a ways back," he said.

"What's Stormchaser, Sam?" Michael asked.

"An op I was part of twelve years ago, just before I left the SEALs."

"Clearance?" Michael asked.

"Top Secret," was the reply. "I might be able to tell the two Feds, but Maddie, the Detective, Fiona, and these days, you pal, none of you are cleared for this stuff."

"Stormchaser has been a dead operation for ten years," Ziva replied, "and Detective Esposito has already been read in."

"If you know about Stormchaser, then what do you need from me?" Sam asked.

Esposito replied, "Your file shows a Letter of Reprimand for a fight you had with a former Army Ranger who was also part of Stormchaser."

"Coonan," Sam said. "That guy was a real piece of work."

"You don't know the half of it," Esposito said.

"Why? What did he do?" from Sam.

"He retired, like you, after Stormchaser was shut down," Kate jumped in. "Not long after, people started turning up dead, multiple stab wounds…"

Before she could finish, Sam interrupted, "But the first one, the kill shot was always to the kidney." He could see by the looks on their faces, that he'd been on the mark. "Did you get him?"

"He became a contract killer," Ziva said. "He killed about a dozen people in the New York area."

"He was killed by a New York Detective, an associate of Detective Esposito," Kate said. "It was necessary to save another companion's life."

"However," Ziva said, "the Detective who killed him denied herself the chance to ever get him to tell her who hired him to kill her mother nine years ago."

"Damn," Fiona said, from her spot on the couch.

"Sam…" Michael started to say.

"Yeah Mikey," Sam said, "I know. I know." He turned to Detective Esposito. "Tell your friend that I'm sorry about her mother. I wanted to kill that son of a bitch a long time ago, but I was pushed out of the SEALs. Someone was protecting him."

"Who?" Esposito asked.

"I'd tell you if I knew," Sam said. "Trouble is, I never knew. I do know that Coonan was a grade A psycho."

"Is there anything else that you can remember, anyone besides Coonan who might have been suspicious?" Kate asked.

"Not on the team. Those were good guys," Sam said.

"Mark Hatten and Mitchell Grayson were accused of stealing forty million dollars from a black account, and both went missing," Ziva said

"That's a bunch of crap," Sam said. "Those two were as straight as Jack Nicholson, hopped up on Viagra, in a room full of prostitutes." After a moment's pause, he added, "Sorry Maddie."

The older woman waved off his apology, a wicked looking grin on her face.

"We know," Esposito said, "at least about Grayson. We found his body a couple of days ago."

"Damn," Sam said. "It was Coonan, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Ziva said.

"Hatten?" Sam asked.

"Still missing," Kate answered. "We're assuming that Coonan killed him as well."

"You know," Sam said. "I keep coming back to that letter of reprimand. It was a bar fight. Why didn't Coonan have one in his file if I did?"

"Because someone removed it for him," Michael said.

Kate handed Sam one of her cards. "If you can think of anything else that might help us, call."

"You can count on it," Sam said. "Anything I can do to help you nail these bastards and clear my buddies."

"We appreciate your help, Mr. Axe," Kate said.

As they got up to leave, Ziva turned back to Michael. "Tell me," she said, "what happened to you? Did you do anything to deserve being Burned?"

"I still don't quite know what happened," Michael said. "And, no, I didn't do anything to deserve being Burned."

"Then I will try to help you," Ziva said. "I still have many contacts."

"Thank you, Ziva," Michael said.

"I have not forgotten Lagos," Ziva said with a smile. "I'll be in touch."


	14. Chapter 14

AUTHOR'S NOTE: A few things I forgot to mention up front. Obviously this story is somewhat AU. Some changes from Canon: Jenny was wounded, but not killed in "Judgment Day". She has since accepted a Deputy-Director position at DHS, under the recently promoted Director Morrow. Leon Vance took her position at NCIS. Special Agent Lee was not uncovered as a mole. I haven't decided yet if I'm going to eventually have that play out, or if I'll treat it like it never happened. Regardless, it hasn't happened yet in this storyline. Thanks to all those who have been reading & reviewing. It's always nice to get feedback, positive or negative. I hope you all continue to enjoy, G PS: For other AU issues within the story, read the first 2 portions, the Long Lie & Convergence.

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN – Back to DC**

They'd returned to the naval base to turn in the sedan, and from there, a seaman had driven them to La Guardia. They were sitting near one of the Southwest gates now, waiting for a boarding call for their flight to Reagan National.

Beckett and Gibbs sat in a pair of chairs on one side, sipping coffee, each trying to think things through for themselves. Directly across from them, DiNozzo and Castle had settled into a friendly competition of 'Who can do the best impersonation'.

Thus far, the tally stood at two to two. DiNozzo had come out ahead on John Wayne and Humphrey Bogart, but Castle had trumped him on Jack Nicholson, a fact that shamed DiNozzo, and Christopher Walken, which still had them both in tears from laughing. Beckett had to admit, Castle had been right when he told her his Walken was better when you could see the visual component.

Beckett had once described Castle as being akin to "a nine year old on a sugar rush", and she had just decided that while one nine year old on a sugar rush could be bad, two of them, constantly trying to one-up one another was worse. Twice already Gibbs had quieted them with a barked command, only to have their exuberance overtake them again a few moments later.

She took another sip of her coffee and realized that they had given up on the impersonations and were now discussing something else.

"So, she's goth, and she's your forensic scientist?" Castle asked.

"Oh yeah," DiNozzo said with a grin. "with a dozen or so tats, full on black lipstick, and pigtails to round out the effect." They both laughed.

"I have got to meet this woman," Castle said. "I'm fairly certain she'll eventually make it into one of my books." For some reason, that made DiNozzo give a rueful chuckle. "Anything else I should be aware of?" Castle asked.

"She sleeps in a coffin," Tony offered off-handedly.

"Seriously?" from Castle.

"Yup."

"Does she have fangs and all, cause we had a case a while back, kid had fangs and everything, and he was killed. Our first suspect had proferia, the vampire's disease."

"That sounds like a fun case," DiNozzo said. "That reminds me. I was flipping channels the other day and I came across this movie, with that guy from ER, Noah something or other…"

"Noah Wyle," Castle cut in. "I know the one you're talking about. The Librarian series."

"Yeah," Tony said enthusiastically. "It was the one with the vampires, which is what made me think of it." 

"The Judas Chalice," Castle said. "My favorite one. What was the name of that actress?"

"Stana Katic," DiNozzo replied, "hottest vampire EVER!"

"No doubt," Castle said.

Beckett just shook her head. _Men_, she thought, how utterly predictable and sophomoric. As if having one Castle around wasn't bad enough, DiNozzo seemed to be quite a bit like him, and they were feeding off one another.

Tony started to say, "Oooh, I watched this vampire movie once…", but Gibbs had apparently reached his limit.

He didn't raise his voice, or even try to look mad, he simply leaned forward and cut in, saying, "DiNozzo, if I hear one more word about celebrity impersonations, or librarians, or vampires, or actresses, hot or otherwise, I will personally see to it that you are transferred to an Agent Afloat position on a minesweeper in the Arctic Sea for the next three years."

"Got it, Boss, sorry," Tony said, sinking back in his chair, sliding down somewhat as though he were trying to become invisible.

Castle suppressed a grin, sliding down in his own seat as well. He watched Gibbs until he was certain the man was no longer focused on them, and then whispered out of the corner of his mouth to DiNozzo, "Sorry about that."

Before the younger NCIS Agent could respond, their flight was called and they began to board.

It was a fairly short flight from New York to Washington, and in what seemed like no time at all, the pilot was touching the plane down, smoothly, onto the runway at Reagan National.

They were able to bypass baggage claim since none of them had anything larger than a rolling carry-on bag. They were met at the curb by another NCIS Agent, a very fit-looking young man who introduced himself as Special Agent Aaronson. He helped them load up into a black Chevy Suburban, taking a seat in the back with Beckett and Castle when Gibbs got behind the wheel.

By the time they reached NCIS, some ten minutes later, Beckett was finishing her third fervent prayer. The man drove like his hair was on fire. She felt a little better that Agent Aaronson, at least. He seemed to be on the verge of sicking up. Agent DiNozzo seemed accustomed to it, even comfortable.

They were ushered through Security by Gibbs and DiNozzo, given visitor's badges, and headed straight for the elevator. The Major Case bullpen was on the third floor. The place practically sparkled. It seemed almost new, and wide open, a far cry from the dingy Squad Room at the Twelfth Precinct, although the deep orange color of the walls was just a bit unsettling at first.

Gibbs and DiNozzo strode purposefully to an area a short distance to the right. As they approached, each sliding behind his own desk, the other young Agent, McGee, finished a call at his own desk and stood, moving to stand in front of Gibbs.

Gibbs motioned for them to sit at the desk to his right. There was only one chair. Beckett sat in it, while Castle perched himself on the front corner of the desk. It was immaculate, with everything in its proper place, unlike DiNozzo's desk across the way.

Both Gibbs and DiNozzo removed their holsters and put their service weapons into their top right desk drawers. "You have anything yet, McGee?" Gibbs asked.

"I managed to find one more account that was being used by Dick Coonan," McGee said, hitting a button on some sort of remote control he held in his right hand. The plasma screen across from Gibbs' desk and between Tony and McGee's came to life. A photo of Coonan was overlaid with his military records, Beckett's own after action report, as well as Montgomery's from Coonan's shooting, and a lot of various official records. The top overlay was some sort of banking record. McGee said, "He'd stashed another hundred and eighty thousand away in the Caribbean, at a bank in Martinique."

Both Gibbs and Tony moved to stand in front of the plasma, prompting Beckett and Castle to follow suit.

McGee went on, "I turned that job over to Abby, and I've been making calls all morning following up on the information Tony and Ziva came up with yesterday."

"How many of those calls do you have left to make?" Gibbs asked.

"Four," McGee said.

"Give them to Tony. He'll finish them up. You find anything in there?"

"Actually, I did." He hit another button and the image on the screen changed to a photo of a man in his early sixties, or so, with dark hair, shot through with grey, cut short in the military style, though he was wearing a dark-colored business suit.

Gibbs seemed to jump without moving. "Our old friend, Colonel Bell," he said.

"One of the guys I talked to was a former Navy Commander. He oversaw dispersing some of the funds for Shadowchaser. When I asked him if there was anything suspicious that he could remember about the operation, he mentioned seeing Bell, who was a Lieutenant-Colonel at that time, with some of the shooters from Shadowchaser. He thought it was strange, because Bell had no official connection to the project."

"When was this, McGee?" Tony asked.

"The Commander wasn't entirely sure. He thought it was shortly before Stormchaser was shut down, and then again, just after. Right around the time Coonan retired."

"I take it that Dick Coonan was one of the guys he was seen with?" Castle put in.

"Yes," McGee said. "He's the only one Commander Nichols could say he was one hundred percent sure about."

"Start digging into Bell Defense Systems," Gibbs said. "Find out as much as you can about that company, and get me everything on Merton Bell from birth until this morning."

"I've already started working on that between calls, Boss."

"Tony will handle the calls from here on out."

"I am on it, Boss!" Tony said. McGee snatched a sheet off his desk and handed it to DiNozzo, who moved to his own desk and picked up the phone.

"Any word yet from Kate or Ziva?" Gibbs asked.

"They called in about an hour ago," McGee said. "They'd talked to Axe and they were on their way back to the Miami Airport."

"They get anything?"

"Not much, Boss, outside of a good story." Beckett could just see Castle's ears perk up at that comment.

Gibbs asked, "Is it important to our case?"

"Not really, Boss," the younger man said.

"Then they can tell me later. Good job, McGee," Gibbs said. He pointed at Beckett and Castle and said, "You two, with me," as he headed for the stairs.


	15. Chapter 15

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Originally, I didn't intend to put this chapter in, but I just couldn't resist. It helps explain some of Gibbs' actions to this point that have seemed to be somewhat OOC. I have to admit that I had a lot of fun writing it.

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN – Why Am I Here & Abby**

Beckett and Castle followed Gibbs. He led them out of the building, and up the block to a small coffee shop. He bought himself a large black coffee, and each them a cup as well. On the way back to the Navy Yard, he turned into a little Shop-Mart. Without a word, he exchanged a few dollars with the teenage girl behind the counter for a large plastic cup, which he proceeded to fill halfway with ice, and then all the way with Caf-Pow, before adding a lid and a thick plastic straw.

Beckett shuddered. She'd tried the stuff once. It had nearly made her gag.

They left the Shop-Mart and returned to NCIS. The only words Gibbs had spoken the entire time had been to ask them what they wanted in their coffees, and to place the order at the coffee shop. Castle had begun to wonder whether the man suffered from some form of voluntary mutism.

Once on the elevator, Castle found the silence a little too much for him. He reached out and flipped the emergency stop button, which, for some reason, made the silver-haired man produce what Castle was sure was his first full smile in some time.

Kate Beckett furrowed her brow a bit. She was trying to get a handle on Agent Gibbs, but she hadn't managed it completely yet. She had some idea about him, but not enough. And then, Castle stops the elevator. Why?

Castle said, "There's a question I want to ask you, and I'd like an honest answer."

Gibbs merely stared at him, the smile gone, replaced by the stern look they had come to see as his normal countenance. Taking Gibbs' silence as permission to continue, Castle asked, "Why did you let me in on this? You had plenty of reasons why you could have shut me out, not the least of which is that you don't seem to work that well with others, even other law-enforcement agencies?"

Gibbs sipped his coffee and responded. "I didn't want to deprive Detective Beckett of her partner."

"But, I'm not her partner. I'm her shadow. She puts up with me because the Mayor and her Captain told her she had to."

Gibbs gave a slight, half-smirk, and without looking away from Castle, he asked, "Is that so, Detective?"

"Initially," Beckett agreed. What was Castle doing? Was he trying to get Gibbs to throw him out of the building and off the case?

"And now," Gibbs asked.

She thought for a moment before answering, taking the time to phrase things properly, "Now, I'd say that you were correct. He's my partner, regardless of his official standing."

Gibbs looked as though he'd been expecting exactly that answer. Castle, on the other hand, seemed a bit surprised. His focus shifted from Gibbs to her. "Really?" he asked. "You see me as your partner?"

"Well yeah, Castle," she said. "You've been with me on most every case for almost two years. You've saved my life more than once already."

Castle cut in, "You've saved mine even more often."

"That's why cops, and feds, have partners," Gibbs said. "From what I've read, you've more than lived up to your end of the bargain, and you don't even carry a gun."

"I'm a good shot though," Castle said, unable to resist the opportunity to brag a little, while simultaneously lightening the mood.

"I'll attest to that," Beckett said. "He might be a better shot than I am." Gibbs raised a single eyebrow. They'd clearly surprised him, perhaps for the first time.

"Is that it?" Castle asked. "I'm here because you see me as Kate's partner?"

"Well, that and I figure you earned it."

"How so," Castle asked.

Gibbs looked over at Beckett and said, "There are not too many people who would pay a hundred thousand dollars, with no assurances of ever seeing the money again, just to get a shot at their partner's mother's killer."

Beckett's cheeks flushed a bit, and she looked down, for just a second.

"I've got plenty of money," Castle said. "It was well worth it." He smiled at Beckett supportively.

"A hundred thousand is a lot of money," Gibbs said, "no matter how much you have. It was the kind of gesture that speaks volumes."

Castle was unsure what else to say. He'd spoken the truth. He had plenty of money. Losing the hundred thousand wouldn't hurt him, and it had been a shot for Beckett to get the justice she'd been needing, craving for a decade. _Would you have done it for Esposito, or Ryan, or Montgomery_? a little voice asked, somewhere deep inside himself. As much as he wanted to say that he would have, the truth was, he probably wouldn't.

Seeing that Castle's question had been answered, Gibbs flipped the switch to resume the elevator ride. He got off at a different floor this time, turning left down the hall and in through a doorway into the NCIS Forensics Lab.

If not for the discussion he'd had with DiNozzo at the airport, both Castle and Beckett would have been shocked at their first sight of Abigail Sciuto. Instead, both were amused, but not at all surprised. Everything from the pigtails to the bizarre, giant red boots and mini-skirt seemed so incongruous with all the computers and scientific equipment.

"Gibbs!" the younger girl squealed, shuffling toward him, and throwing her arms around him. He took it in stride. Clearly this was not the first time he'd endured her shows of affection. He held his coffee out to the side, in one hand, and the Caf-Pow out in the other, avoiding her knocking either one loose, to be spilled on the floor. "I'm so glad you're back," she said, before releasing him. "And you brought me a present."

He smiled, and handed her the Caf-Pow. She wasted no time in taking a deep pull through the straw. "Ahhhh," she said, then looked at the cup and said, "I missed you too." Castle almost snickered at her girlish enthusiasm.

"You got anything for me, Abs?" he asked.

"Of course I do, Almighty Gibbs," she replied. Moving to her computer, she tapped a few keys and brought up an image of what looked like a tiny metal shaving lying in a round glass container. "This is a metal shaving that Ducky and Dr. Brennan managed to find in one of the rib bones of the skeleton they got out of the sewer."

"You manage to match it up to anything?" he asked.

"Yup," she said. "It matches a number of homicides committed in New York over the last ten years."

"The killings committed by Dick Coonan," Beckett said.

"Yeah," Abby said, her enthusiasm dimming just a bit. She shuffled over and wrapped her arms around a very surprised Kate Beckett. "I'm really sorry about your Mom," she said. "Timmy told me about it."

"That would be Agent McGee," Gibbs said, when Beckett looked confused at Timmy.

Abby held her a few seconds longer, and then released her, brightening immediately as she turned to Castle. "I'm sooo happy to meet you though," she said. "I'm such a huge fan…"

Gibbs cut her off, "Abs, you get anything else?"

"Not yet, Gibbs," she answered. "I'm running an analysis of the sludge from the bones that Ducky gave me. I'm hoping to narrow down where he went into the sewer, and maybe give you an idea of where he was killed, but I wouldn't hold my breath on that."

"That it?" he asked.

"Yup, except for this." She reached down to a shelf under her computer and produced a copy of _Hell Hath No Fury_, and said, "I was hoping you'd sign it for me. It's my favorite."

"Sure," Castle said, producing a black Sharpie pen from his inside coat pocket. He rarely went anywhere without one.

"I'll be up in the bullpen," Gibbs said. He left, followed quickly by Detective Beckett. Castle quickly signed the book, receiving a quick kiss on the cheek before jumping in through the elevator doors at the last second.

He looked somewhat confused when Gibbs handed him a handkerchief, until he caught sight of his own reflection in the stainless steel wall of the elevator. He had a large purplish-black SWAK on his cheek. He used the handkerchief to wipe it off and handed it back with a murmured, "Thanks." Gibbs simply nodded and stepped off the elevator when the doors opened.


	16. Chapter 16

AUTHOR'S NOTE: There is a little bit of Kibbs in this chapter, a warning for those of you who love or hate the pairing, but not much that is explicit in any way. Things are beginning to come together case-wise. Hope you all continue to enjoy, G

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN – A Link, a Suite at the Adams House & a Boat in the Basement**

The team, including Castle and Beckett, spent the next two hours researching the background history of both Dick Coonan and Merton Bell. Bell had been a Lieutenant-Colonel, working as an instructor at West Point at the time when Stormchaser began to fall apart. He was also part of a joint DOD think tank on terrorism issues, which met twice a week in New York. That was a link, though a very weak one, between the two. The think tank's work was theoretical, and they were not read in to, nor did they participate directly in the Stormchaser program.

Beckett and Castle became familiar with NCIS' previous experience with Colonel Bell and his company, how they'd attempted to kidnap the Daughter-in-Law of former Agent Mike Franks and return her to Iraq, at the behest of the woman's fairly powerful and influential mother, his extradition to Mexico, and his eventual release, having managed to dodge the charges, or more likely bribe his way out of the Mexican legal system.

"If there's one thing this guy's file shows us, it's that he's a greedy and manipulative bastard," Castle said. "It seems like he and Coonan would have gotten along just fine."

"Or double-crossed one another at the drop of a hat," DiNozzo said.

Esposito, David and Todd came in, freshly arrived from Miami. The two groups spent a few moments catching one another up on just exactly what they'd learned.

"Seems like this connection between Bell and Coonan is the most promising lead we have," Kate said.

Beckett nodded in agreement.

"How does this Colonel Bell link back to Beckett's mother?" Esposito asked.

"Through Coonan," Castle suggested.

"Sure," Esposito said, "but why?"

"The money." That last was from Gibbs. "Somehow, or some way, she's a link to the money."

Beckett started to object, but DiNozzo cut her off. "She wasn't after the money, but she found out about it."

"And she was going to tell the reporter," Kate said.

"But, before she could, Coonan killed them both, to keep them quiet," Castle said.

"So how does a lawyer, specializing in corporate law, come across that kind of information?" DiNozzo asked.

"You said you checked through all your mother's cases?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes," Beckett said. She was putting up a good front, but Castle could see that all this was hurting her, no matter how good a poker face she had.

"Was there anything linked to a company called Bell Defense Systems?" from Gibbs.

"No," Beckett said.

"Any military, or government cases at all?" Ziva asked.

"I don't recall any."

"McGee," Gibbs said. "When did BDS start operating?"

"Just a second, Boss," McGee said, typing away furiously, then transferring what he found from his screen to the plasma. "Looks like Colonel Bell retired in early two-thousand, from the Army, started Bell Defense Systems about four months later."

"A lot of people involved in this case left the military between the latter part of ninety-eight and early two thousand," DiNozzo pointed out.

"Did Bell come from a wealthy family?" Gibbs asked.

"Not really," McGee answered. "He grew up in a suburb of Chicago. Father was a fireman. Mother worked part-time as a receptionist. They did okay, but they certainly weren't rolling in money. Bell got an appointment to West Point. Served in Panama and Gulf One. Rose to the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel. Came back to the States and accepted a teaching position at West Point, and was recruited to the think tank. Left the Army and started BDS."

"He's definitely a sleazebag," DiNozzo said, "but what do we have that really ties him to the murders?"

"My gut," Gibbs growled. "He's neck deep in this. I'm sure of it."

Esposito wondered about the silver-haired Agent, but DiNozzo said, "That's more than enough for me. If we keep digging, we're bound to come up with something."

"The money," Castle blurted out. Turning to Gibbs, he said, "You said it yourself. The money is the link. Stormchaser starts coming apart. Forty million goes missing from the black ops funds used to finance it. Coonan retires and becomes a hit man. Bell retires and founds a company."

"He used the money from Stormchaser to bankroll the start-up," Beckett said. Gibbs nodded approvingly at the writer.

"He likely would have used a corporate law firm, like Johanna Beckett's to file much of the necessary paperwork," Kate said.

"But Mrs. Beckett didn't have a case that had any link to BDS," McGee said. "Detective Beckett checked."

"Maybe it didn't have to be her case," Esposito said. "Maybe she saw something, or overheard something she shouldn't have, a misplaced file, or a phone call from another lawyer at the firm to Bell, something incriminating."

Gibbs said, "McGee, get me all the financial records for Bell Defense Systems. Get Abby to help you. We'll have Lee find us some grounds for a search warrant to search the law firm's files for anything on Bell Defense Systems." He turned to the others and said, "The rest of you, go home. It's been a long couple of days. Tomorrow, oh-seven-hundred, we start fresh, and we get to the bottom of this." To Beckett he said, "Where are your people staying?"

"Esposito booked us rooms at the Holiday Inn near the airport," she answered.

"Actually, umm…" Esposito started to say something, but was interrupted by Castle.

"Actually, I had Javier cancel those reservations," he said.

"What? Why?" Beckett asked.

"I got us a large suite at the Adams House."

"Castle," Beckett said, "the city is never going to approve receipts for a place like the Adams House, and certainly not for a suite."

"They don't have to, I'm paying for it."

"No, Castle," she said. "That's crazy."

"Why?" he asked. "I've stayed there before. I love the hotel. It's much closer to here than the airport Holiday Inn. And, the city wasn't going to pay for my room anyway. There's no reason for you and Javier to stay so far away."

"Castle, it must cost an arm and a leg," she protested, but most everyone could tell that she was running out of steam.

"Maybe a finger," he said. "Seriously, it's no big deal. It's a three room suite. You get one room, Alexis another, and we'll share the last room," he gestured to himself and Esposito. "It has two double beds. Plus, we get our own little common living room, a small kitchen area, and two bathrooms."

"When does Alexis get here?" she asked.

"Eight-fifteen. I already arranged for a car to pick her up at the train station and bring her to the hotel."

"Your daughter is coming down here?" Gibbs asked.

"She likes Washington," he said. "And, she wants to visit a school down here. Waverly, I think."

"My sister went there," McGee piped up. "I could ask her to show your daughter around the school if you'd like."

"That would be great," Castle said, "if it's not too much trouble."

"Shouldn't be," McGee said, reaching for his cell phone. "If you write down your daughter's cell number, I'll have Sarah give her a call to set something up."

"Sarah?" Castle asked. "Your sister is Sarah McGee, as in _Roses of the Mind_?"

"You've read her book?" McGee asked with a smile.

"No," Castle said, "but Alexis has. She raves about it. She's a big poetry fan."

"Terrific," McGee said, then started speaking into his phone, "Hey, Sarah, it's Tim. What are you doing tomorrow…" he walked away, around the corner.

"Writers, writers everywhere," Kate said, causing Beckett, & DiNozzo to grin.

"You guys are going to love the restaurant at the Adam's House," Castle told Beckett and Esposito. "They make a great Porterhouse steak with crushed black peppercorns and the grilled salmon with lemon-thyme buerre-blanc is out of this world."

DiNozzo and David had already started for the elevator. "How's Chinese?" he asked. As he pushed the button, he called back, "McGoo, we'll bring you back some lo mein and an egg roll."

"You wouldn't happen to have the number of a cab company handy?" Castle asked Kate.

"Better," she said, taking the keys from her purse and removing one from the ring. "You can take my car for now. I'll just hop in with Gibbs."

"Really," Beckett said, "that's not necessary, but thank you."

"Go on," Kate insisted. "It's no problem at all."

"Thanks," Beckett said, handing the key to Esposito.

"Lexus," he said, examining the key. "You Feds have nice rides." Kate smiled. The three New Yorkers headed for the elevators after a final thank you.

"What about us?" Kate asked Gibbs. "Are we staying here as well?"

"No," Gibbs said. "I told McGee to stick around and see what he can dig up until Tony and Ziva get back with his dinner, and then go home. Come on," he said, grabbing his weapon, badge and sport coat.

Beckett and her crew headed to the Adams House. It was everything that Castle had promised. Their suite was on the twelfth floor, with a gorgeous view of the Capital, and the River. The rooms were elegantly furnished. They settled in and waited until Alexis arrived a bit later.

The restaurant was also as good as promised. Excellent service, nice atmosphere, and delicious food. Kate and Esposito both followed Castle's recommendations, steak for him and salmon for her. Castle and Alexis both chose one of the nightly specials, Veal Oscar. Alexis stepped away from the table at one point to answer her phone, only to return in a somewhat frenzied and giddy state.

"I can't believe it," she said. "Sarah McGee is going to show me around the Waverly campus tomorrow."

"That's great, sweetie," Castle grinned. "And I'm glad you won't be wandering around DC alone."

"This is so awesome," the teenager gushed. She spent the better part of the remainder of dinner talking about Agent McGee's sister, and her poetry.

They returned to their room around nine-thirty. It had been a long day for everyone, and they had a very early start in the morning, which meant no one was against the idea of turning in early.

Beckett was shocked with herself, at just how long she considered the playful offer Castle made to help her stay warm by spooning, before smacking him and reminding him she had a gun. His grin was more than enough to let her know that he'd noticed the delay. Despite the fact that she was shocked, she still fell asleep wrapped in the soft, comfortable sheets, with a smile on her face.

Gibbs was in his basement, not out of the ordinary for him, though not so common anymore as it had once been, of an evening. He sipped at a glass of bourbon, another pleasure that he still allowed himself, but one which he no longer desired as often, and then went back to sanding the ribs of his latest boat. He hadn't even given a thought yet as to what he'd end up naming her. Maybe he should. She was nearly two-thirds completed.

He didn't need to look up when he heard the door open. It could only be one person, yet he looked anyway. He loved looking at her.

Caitlyn Todd padded down the steps on her bare feet. Her hair was up in a ponytail, held in place by one of those thingies, what did she call them, scrunchies? She wore pink and white drawstring pajama bottoms in a floral pattern, and one of his old, black, Marine Corps t-shirts. She was beautiful.

She walked up behind him and hugged him, her cheek pressed to his back, and her arms around his middle. He could just make out the scent of her jasmine perfume.

Three years she'd been gone. Three years he'd thought she died, thought he'd lost any chance to ever be with her. When she'd reappeared a little over a year ago, back from some mysterious mission overseas, he hadn't wasted any time. Now, he couldn't imagine spending a night without his Katie next to him.

He waited until she eased up her hold a bit, and then turned to face her. "You finished reading for tonight?"

She nodded, her face now pressed up against his chest. "You were right," she said. "Castle can write. I can't believe I never read any of his work before."

The perfume was still faint. Kate didn't wear a lot of perfume, but now that he was facing her, he could smell it a little more, and underneath it, the clean, sweet scent that was simply her own. "Which book did you choose?" he asked.

"Storm Rising," she said. "I figured I'd start at the beginning." Releasing him, she stood up on her tip-toes, and craned her neck up, while he bent his, their lips meeting briefly. As usual, he felt just a bit light-headed afterward. It was a feeling he'd only ever had with her, and Shannon. "I'm heading upstairs to bed," she said. "Will you be coming up soon?"

"Ten minutes," he said before kissing her again. "I've just got one little bit to finish up, and then put away the tools."

She patted his arm once and started for the stairs. "See you up there," she said. He watched as she climbed the stairs, as always fascinated as much by the way she moved as anything else. He'd finish sanding the rough spot he'd found, and then go to her, he decided. Putting the tools away could wait until tomorrow night.


	17. Chapter 17

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'd like to say thanks again for all the reviews and PMs. I appreciate the effort, & the ideas that some of you have sent my way. As you'll know, if you're one of those who sent an idea that made it into the story, I consider them all. Sorry for missing a day yesterday. I had issues uploading Chapter 16 to the site, so I'm posting 2 chapters today. Hope you enjoy, G

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN – The Ball Gets Rolling & a Talk with the Director**

Gibbs and Kate arrived at NCIS the following morning at six-fifty-three. They got out of the Charger and walked to the building hand-in-hand. When they reached the door, they let go, and he held it for her. It was the last such sign of affection they would allow themselves until their work day ended. Rule Twelve may have gone by the boards some time ago, but that didn't mean he'd allow any such open signs in the workplace, even from himself. He certainly didn't allow it from DiNozzo and David.

By the time they were through Security and stepping off the elevator and into the Bullpen, it was six-fifty-eight. They were the last to arrive, except for McGee. Gibbs had called the younger man and told him to get an extra hour of sleep after making him stay late the night before.

Kate didn't recognize the young redhead who was standing near her desk laughing at something, undoubtedly juvenile, that Tony said. Gibbs clearly did, though. When the girl looked up and saw him, she came straight toward them, wrapping her arms around him in greeting.

"Alexis Castle," Kate said, understanding now. Gibbs had told her the story of his encounter with Castle's daughter in the park. "Hi," she said, extending a hand. "I'm Caitlyn Todd. You can call me Kate."

The girl shook her hand. She seemed bright, and keen. She certainly had Castle's blue eyes. Unlike her father, however, she gave off an air of maturity, of wisdom beyond her years. Gibbs had said so, and he'd been right.

"I'm meeting Agent McGee's sister here in a little while," she said. "She's driving in to work with him, and then we're off to see the city, and the campus."

"I'll have someone give you a tour while you wait," Gibbs said.

"Thanks, but that's not necessary," she said. "I brought a book with me. Reading assignment for my AP English class." She held up the book for them to see, _Leaves of Grass_, by Walt Whitman. "He's not my favorite poet," Alexis said, "but he's okay." She found a spot on the floor, directly beneath the plasma, where she was out of the way. She turned down Tony's offer of McGee's desk chair with a smile.

Gibbs and Kate settled in. Tony and Ziva were already working, though Kate wasn't sure on what. At seven-thirty-five, McGee showed up, nearly a half hour earlier than Gibbs had suggested, which meant that he was almost exactly on time for McGee. Sarah was with him. She took a moment to say hello to the team, and she seemed thrilled to meet Castle. No real surprise there.

Before long, she whisked Sarah off, the keys to McGee's Porsche in hand. Tim settled himself in, firing up his computer.

Gibbs gave him about five minutes to get into his routine, and then asked, "What did you find on Bell, McGee?"

"I think I might have something," the younger man answered, as the team gathered around the plasma. McGee hit a few keys, moving the records he'd accessed so that they could all see. "I pulled the initial paperwork on Bell Defense Systems. I also got hold of their early bank records."

"Did you…" Esposito started to say.

Gibbs cut him off. "Don't ask that question, Detective," Gibbs said.

"That way, if anyone asks you later," DiNozzo put in, "you can tell them you didn't know without lying."

McGee waited for the exchange to end, and then said. "BDS was started up with an initial venture capital investment of twenty million dollars. I verified about six million that came in from investors, but the largest chunk, nearly fourteen million was part of a wire transfer from a bank in the Caymans. I'm working on getting the account information now, but I'm pretty sure it was Bell."

"How long until you're totally sure?" Gibbs asked.

"Maybe a couple of hours, Boss."

"So Bell had fourteen million," DiNozzo said.

"Quite the co-inky-dink," Ziva said, drawing strange looks from the New Yorkers.

Tony just shook his head at them and said, "Don't ask."

"Assuming that it is Bell," Kate said. "That accounts for roughly a third of the money. Where's the rest?"

"Some probably went to Coonan," Esposito said.

"And Bell wouldn't have had access to the black ops accounts for Stormchaser," Gibbs put in, "so he had to have someone on the inside helping him. Some probably went there."

"If all this is what we think it is," Beckett said, "anyone at the law firm who helped him would be opening themselves up to a huge risk. They probably got some as well."

Gibbs nodded. It made sense. "Kate," he said, "you, Tony and Esposito can dig deeper into Stormchaser. Look for anyone who was close to, or served with Merton Bell who might have had access to the accounts. Have Abby help you with the financials. McGee, keep working on the bank, and then start digging into the financial histories of the Partners and Senior Associates at Markham, King and Obermeier."

"It's Markham, King, Obermeier & Wilson now, but Markham isn't part of the firm these days. He got appointed as a Superior Court judge and then to the New York Supreme Court." Beckett said.

McGee nodded to let her know he'd heard her. Gibbs continued without a pause. "David, you take Beckett and Castle. Pick up Damon Werth. Tell him I want him to come in here and have a chat."

"Oooh," Tony said. "Corporal Punishment returns."

Ziva waved off Castle's inquisitive look. "I will explain on the ride," she said.

"You know," Castle said. "I've noticed that you never use contractions." Ziva smiled. Tony burst out laughing, at least until Gibbs smacked the back of his head.

"Sorry Boss," he said.

"What are you going to do, Gibbs?" Kate asked.

"Brief the Director, and then talk to a friend," he answered, in a typically cryptic fashion, taking his coffee and heading for M-TAC.

Gibbs paused outside the door to M-TAC, allowing the optical scanner to read the pattern of blood vessels in his eye. The door opened and he slipped quietly inside. The room was fairly dark, as it usually was.

Director Vance sat in a chair, to the far right of the small seating area, as was his pattern. He had a cup of hot tea sitting at his elbow. Well, it was tea anyway. How hot it was at this point was another matter. He was watching the screen, where a cruiser was test firing a new surface to surface missile somewhere off the coast of San Diego.

He rolled the toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other and said, "What have we got on the Grayson case, Gibbs?"

Gibbs smiled. The man was harder to sneak up on than anyone but Ziva and Kate. He sat in the seat next to him and answered. "I've got a lot of information, and a number of strong suspects, including Merton Bell, but very little that I can actually prove at this point."

"Bell, huh? Be good to nail that son of a bitch," Vance said. "Tell me about it."

Gibbs told him, most of it anyway, all of the important stuff.

"I'll tell Lee to be ready to get you warrants for the law firm, when you're ready," Vance said. "How are you planning to handle the fact that McGee hacked the bank for the information?"

"We knew Bell had donors for six million," Gibbs replied. "It was his company, so we assumed the largest portion came from him."

"And when you prove something, I'll get you a warrant, and then it won't be an issue," Vance reasoned. "Pretty slick."

"Thanks," Gibbs said.

"How about these Detectives from New York?" Vance asked. "They live up to their reps?"

"Yeah, Leon, they do." Gibbs got up and headed for the door.

Vance called after him, "Keep me in the loop, Agent Gibbs."

"I will."


	18. Chapter 18

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN – Confirmation, Visiting Old Friends & an Awkward Moment**

Gibbs left M-TAC and checked in with McGee. He gathered his gear and the keys to one of the sedans from the motor pool. He stopped at his usual place and picked up two coffees, one with cream and sugar, the other his own, which the owner kept a pot jusr for him, black and strong. From there, he drove straight to the Federal building. Sixteen minutes after he left NCIS, he was sitting in a chair in front of the desk of one of the few men he'd actually admit was his friend, Tobias Fornell.

Fornell spoke, in his somewhat gravelly voice. "You're here first thing in the morning, and you brought me coffee. This can't be good."

"Ahhh, quit worrying Tobias," Gibbs said. "I'm just here to see if you can help me out with some information."

"On an FBI case?" Fornell asked.

"Nope."

"Then what makes you think I have any information you might want?"

"Because," Gibbs said. "You're the FBI. You guys have your fingers in a lot of pies."

Tobias sighed. "Who, or what are you looking at?" he asked.

"Colonel Merton Bell," Gibbs said, "and Operation Stormchaser."

"I gave the Stormchaser file to Agent Booth for the NYPD a few days ago. How did you get involved?"

"The guy turned out to be a SEAL." 

"Axe, Hatten or Grayson?" Fornell asked.

"You're familiar with the case?" Gibbs asked.

"Not really. I just skimmed the file before it was redacted for NYPD."

"Grayson," Gibbs said. "Coonan killed him. Probably killed Hatten too."

"What do you want from me?"

"I want to know about anything that didn't make it into the official file."

"What makes you think I'd know?"

"You wouldn't Tobias, but you could ask around for me."

"I see," Fornell said. "You want me to act as the go between for you and the A Boys, CIA, NSA. Why?"

"You have a better relationship with them than I do," Gibbs answered.

"I think the KGB had a better relationship with them than you do." The sarcasm fairly dripped from Tobias' mouth. "What am I looking for?"

"I'm chasing forty million in black ops money that went missing," Gibbs said. "I think I know who ended up with it, at least some of it, but not how they got it."

"That would be Merton Bell?"

"Yup."

"So, I ask around about who handled the black ops money for Stormchaser, because we all know that some of those guys didn't make it into the file. Then what?"

"Don't mention Bell," Gibbs said. "I don't want to spook him."

"So, I pull files on any names I get, check them to see if they've ever had contact in any way with Bell. That it? Would you like me to figure out the Russian submarine deployment schedules or anything while I'm at it?"

"Don't whine, Tobias. It's not in your nature."

"What's in this for me, Gibbs?"

"I'll owe you one," Gibbs said, in a disgusted tone, as if Tobias shouldn't have had to ask, getting up to leave.

"You'll owe me a big one," Tobias said.

"Yeah, whatever," Gibbs said. "Just call me when you find out."

Across town, Ziva pulled the sedan up to the curb outside a somewhat run down looking apartment building in a neighborhood that was bad enough to be a part of any slum in New York.

"Nice place," Castle commented dryly. He was a little worried about getting out of the car in his expensive Armani sport coat.

"Don't worry, Castle," Beckett said, seeing the look on his face. "You're with two cops carrying guns." Ziva smirked at that.

There was a group of youths standing on the corner, all wearing something red, caps twisted sideways, pants hanging low, just barely catching enough hip to keep from falling down. Castle couldn't help but wonder why anyone would dress that way on purpose, but that didn't stop his writer's mind from memorizing the details. You never knew when you might need such a description for a story.

Ziva led the way into the building, ignoring the wolf whistles of the young men.

Beckett ignored them as well. The display of whistles and catcalls was as much for her as for the NCIS Agent. Castle was tempted to turn back and say something to them, but he wasn't feeling particularly suicidal.

"Relax Castle," Beckett said. He realized that the muscles in his shoulders and arms were all bunched up. He also realized that Beckett had hold of his right arm. "They're basically saying the same things to us," she gestured to Ziva and herself, "that you say to me all the time, just with a little less style."

Castle's eyes went wide. Did she really think he was as vulgar as…the smile playing at the corners of her mouth told him that she'd been having fun with him. A thought occurred to him then, and he decided to run with it before he lost his nerve. _Two can play that kind of game_.

As they crossed through the doorway, into the hallway, Castle turned toward Beckett, backing her up against the wall, his head coming down and his lips finding hers. He kissed her long and hard. She resisted for a second, and then melted into him. She'd wondered for a long time exactly what it would be like if she were to kiss Castle. She'd expected him to be good, but he'd curled her toes, literally.

After a few seconds, Ziva cleared her throat, bringing them back to reality. She was standing there with an amused look on her face. They both looked like children with their hands caught in the cookie jar,… for a few seconds. After a while, a giant grin began to spread across Castle's face. If possible, Beckett looked even more shocked.

"Should we continue?" Ziva asked, gesturing down the hall.

They looked at one another, and Beckett dropped her eyes. "I'll be damned," Castle said.

"What?" from Beckett.

"Alexis was right."

"About what?"

"Tell her about this and then ask her," Castle said. Ziva had begun to walk away, down the hall. Castle started after her, pulling Beckett along by the hand for a few steps, until she pulled her hand away. A look passed between them, and in that instant they agreed to set aside the awkward moment and deal with it later.

Castle couldn't help the smile that spread across his face, any more than Beckett could help her own, though she ruthlessly suppressed hers as soon as it started.

Ziva stopped in front of a door. The black numbers said it was apartment 3D. She knocked once, waited a few moments, and then knocked again. There was a mumbled response from somewhere behind the door.

The door opened to reveal a tall man, with dark hair worn long. He had a day's growth of facial hair, at least, and his eyes were bloodshot. "Ziva?" he asked, hesitantly.

"Damon," she answered back. "Rough night?"

He ran his hands through his hair. "Maybe a little bit," he said. "Who are your friends?"

"Detective Beckett, NYPD and Richard Castle, the author," she replied.

"Richard Castle," he said. "You brought a best-selling author to arrest me?"

"We're not here to arrest you," Ziva said. "Gibbs wants to talk to you, at NCIS."

"Okay," he said. "Is it alright if I get cleaned up first?"

"Please," Ziva said. "We'll wait for you in the car outside."

He nodded and smiled. It was a nice smile, Beckett thought. He closed the door and they turned away. "What?" Castle asked, catching Ziva watching them out of the corner of her eye.

"I was just wondering if you were going to kiss her again," she said, and laughed, walking away as Kate Beckett turned a deep shade of red.

Castle started to speak, only to have Beckett wheel on him, her eyes flashing dangerously. "Don't!" she said. "Just don't," and then she practically ran after Ziva. Castle grinned to himself before following. Alexis had definitely been right.

McGee raised his arms in triumph and let out a semi-shout, "Yes!"

He glanced over at Tony to see the other Agent's amused look, and his raised eyebrow. "You have something to share, Probie?"

"I'm in," he said, "the bank in the Caymans. The account was Colonel Bell's."

"Nice work, McGee," Kate said from her desk on the other side.

"Thanks," McGee responded. "Anybody want a coffee? I'm going to run and get one." Both Kate and Tony had recently picked up refills of their own, so both declined.

Esposito was sitting at Ziva's desk, making phone calls. "I'll take one, Agent McGee," he said, digging into his pocket for some cash.

McGee waved him off, and said, "Call me Tim. How do you take your coffee?"

"Black, one sugar, please," Esposito said.

As McGee headed for the elevator, Tony called after him, "Get a Caf-Pow for Abby while you're out." He got a thumbs up gesture from McGee as acknowledgement, just before the doors closed.

"Any luck on your end, Kate?" Tony asked.

"Not really," she said.

"Javier?" Kate asked.

"I'm on hold again," he said, pointing to the phone cradled between his shoulder and ear. "But, so far I've got squat."

Tony's phone rang. "DiNozzo," he said, picking it up. "Oh, hey Boss." He paused a moment. "Yeah…yeah…okay, we'll handle it."

"What did Gibbs want?" Kate asked.

"Fornell is going to be coming by with some files. Gibbs wants us to go through them, make copies of the pictures, have them ready for a photo lineup."

"Split them three ways?" she asked.

"Yeah," Tony said. "You up for some good old fashioned paperwork, Detective?"

"Oh yeah," Esposito said. "Anything to get off this damned phone. The Muzak is driving me up a wall."

Kate laughed, gave a meaningful look at Tony and said, "I know exactly what you mean." She returned to her own desk and sat, only to be bombarded by a stream of scrap paper balls.

The first she threw back, sticking her tongue out at DiNozzo. The rest went into the trash can next to her desk. After a few minutes, they settled back in to work


	19. Chapter 19

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter starts us down the road to the beginning of the end. I'm currently finishing up Chapter 23. I expect that the story will go no more than 26-27 total chapters, though I won't swear to that. I hope you all continue to enjoy, G

**CHAPTER NINETEEN – Talking to Werth & a Breakthrough**

Damon Werth sat in the interrogation room at NCIS. He wasn't nervous. He'd been there before. And he hadn't done anything wrong. Not to mention, Ziva told him he was here to talk to Gibbs. They didn't actually suspect him of anything. She was one of the few people on Earth, outside of his former platoon mates that he'd trust.

As a sign of their good intentions, he guessed, they'd left the door to the hallway open. He believed it was a sign that he wasn't really here against his will, a sign that he wasn't under arrest, a sign of trust perhaps.

He sipped at the coffee that Ziva had had brought down for him. He hadn't been waiting too long, maybe ten minutes or so. Gibbs came through the door, his ever-present cup of coffe in one hand, and a manila file folder in the other.

"Damon," he said, setting down the coffee and holding out a hand, which the younger man stood and shook enthusiastically. Gibbs sat in the chair across from him and motioned for Damon to sit back down as well.

"Thanks for coming down," Gibbs said.

"No problem," Werth replied. "Ziva said you needed my help with the case you're working on."

"Yeah," Gibbs said. "I need to show you some pictures. I need to know if you recognize anyone from your time with Bell Defense Systems."

"Are they all people who worked there?"

"No," Gibbs said. "Only one worked there. The rest are people who might have shown up there from time to time. Look at each photo and let me know if you know them. We'll set it aside, and when we've gone through them all, we'll come back and see what you can tell us about any of the ones you recognized."

Beckett and Castle entered the room and stood near the doorway.

Gibbs looked up and motioned to them. "This is Detective Kate Beckett of the NYPD, and an NYPD consultant, Rick Castle." Damon nodded to them both, but didn't seem to recognize the author's name. Gibbs gestured again, this time to him. "This is Damon Werth, formerly USMC."

"Thank you for your cooperation," Beckett said.

"I hope I can help," Damon replied.

Gibbs began showing him pictures of everyone that McGee, Ziva and DiNozzo had managed to identify as having any connection to Stormchaser, even remotely. Damon took a moment to study each one. He didn't rush himself, nor did they try to rush him. When he set each picture aside, those he recognized to his left and those he didn't to his right, he was very certain of the decision.

In the end, after seeing forty-one pictures, he had a pile of thirty-six to his right, and only five to his left. One of those was Marlon Wyatt, a former Army Staff Sergeant who had taken a position as Quartermaster, in effect, for Bell Defense Systems after leaving the Army five years earlier.

The remaining four photos were men that Damon could remember having seen at Bell Defense from time to time, but he didn't know enough about any of them to give them a lot of information.

"You've been a big help," Beckett said.

"I just wish I could tell you more about them," he said.

"We'll look into all of them anyway," Gibbs said, "but for now, we'll start with the five we know, for a fact, have at least some connection to Bell Defense." Standing, he shook Damon's hand again. "Thanks for coming down."

"It was the least I could do," he answered.

Ziva was waiting in the hallway to escort him out.

"You'll let me know how this all turns out?" he asked.

"Unless I am prevented from doing so," she said, "if it all gets classified." She paused a moment. "Though, I do not see why it would." When they reached the front door, she gave him a quick hug. "It was good to see you again. You look,…well."

"You too," he said. "Don't be a stranger." With that, he was out the doors and gone.

Back up in the Bullpen, Gibbs was discussing things with his team. He gave each of them a file, Tony, McGee, Kate, and Ziva, though hers was left on her desk. The last file he handed to Beckett. "You and Esposito find out everything you can about former Staff Sergeant Marlon Wyatt."

They spent several hours working, digging up everything they could on their new short list of suspects. It was DiNozzo who found the missing link. "Bingo!" he shouted out, around eight pm. They'd been slogging along for almost six hours.

"You got something DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

"Oh yeah, Boss," the younger Agent said. He knuckled his back a little as he stood and moved toward the plasma. "McGeek," he said, holding out his hand for the remote device, snatching it out of the air when the younger man tossed it to him.

"You gonna spill it, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, moving to join him.

"Just savoring the moment, Boss."

The rest of the team moved around to see what he'd come up with.

"Lieutenat Evan Haines," he said, pulling a picture of the man in question up onto the plasma. "He was peripherally attached to Stormchaser in ninety-nine. He was a dispersing officer working out of the DOD office in New York. He was investigated by CID for the theft of the forty million, and cleared, along with most of the guys we're looking at."

Alexis Castle walked up to the group, having been escorted up by a Security Officer, at Ziva's authorization. She started to ask what was happening, but was "shushed" by her father, who pulled her into a hug. He'd been unusually quiet and reserved throughout the day, and it was killing him, but Beckett's need to find her mother's killer, and his need to help her do that had been driving him.

DiNozzo continued, though he did take the time to flash the younger Castle a grin that made her feel slightly weak in the knees. "I checked financials for him all the way back to the theft and got nada. I also checked on his immediate family. Still nothing."

"Is this going somewhere, Tony?" from Gibbs, in an impatient tone DiNozzo knew well.

"Getting there, Boss," he said. He clicked the remote again, pulling up the DMV photo of a man a few years younger than Lieutenant Haines, but with the same head of red hair. "This is Haines' younger brother, Elliott Warner."

"Warner?" Kate asked. "I don't remember a brother in Haines' file.

"Yeah," Tony said. "Elliott and Evan have the same mother, but different fathers. Marcia Alford was Marcia Haines before she divorced Stanley Haines and married Rick Alford. Haines got custody of Evan. Apparently Marcia had a bit of a drinking problem."

"How does Alford relate to Warner?" Beckett asked.

"I'm getting there," Tony said. "Rick Alford and Marcia Haines had a child, Elliott, about three years after her divorce from Stanley Haines. They gave him up for adoption."

"Did Evan Haines know about his brother?" Castle asked.

"I can'y find any evidence of it until nineteen ninety-six," Tony answered. "Elliott was adopted by Jake and Jamie Warner. He grew up in Scarsdale, New York. Attended NYU, graduated with a Masters in Finance, became a broker at Kole Financial in Manhattan."

"You think he helped Evan with the money?" Ziva said.

"In a manner of speaking," Tony answered. "The day after the theft, Elliott Haines opened four trading accounts at Kole, mainly offshore investments, totaling thirty-eight million dollars."

"The other two million was Elliott's cut," Gibbs said.

"Who did the trading accounts belong to?" Kate asked.

"I could only find one," Tony said, "for Mervin Belfort. McGoo can take over and find the rest. It's really his area anyway." He paused, for dramatic effect, and then said, "The one I found was for fifteen million dollars. Anyone care to guess when the money from that account was removed, transferred to an offshore account in the Caymans."

"July, two-thousand," McGee said.

"Give the man a farting stuffed hippo!" Tony shouted. "Of course, we'll have to steal it from Abby."

Thwack!

"Sorry Boss."

"Why is that date important?" Esposito asked.

"Colonel Merton Bell's new company, Bell Defense Systems, received a wire transfer of fourteen million dollars from a bank in the Caymans on July sixteenth, two-thousand," Tony said.

"McGee," Gibbs said. "Can you verify that the account was the same in both cases?"

"Might take me a while, Boss," he said, "but I should be able to do it."

"Get Abby to help you."

"Okay, Boss, " McGee said, heading off toward Abby's lab.

"Hold on a second there, McHacker," Tonyn said. He handed the younger man a memory stick. "There were three other accounts. Another for fifteen million, one for five million and one for three."

"One will be Coonan's," Castle said.

"Probably the three million," Beckett put in.

"Three or five," Gibbs agreed. "The other small one will be Haines."

"That leaves one major player unaccounted for," Esposito put in.

Gibbs looked at McGee, then jerked his head toward the stairs to Abby's lab. When the younger man had gone he said, "Good work, Tony."

"Thanks, Boss," Tony said.

"Do you want us to pick up Elliott Warner?" Kate asked.

"Not yet," Gibbs said. "Let McGee and Abby firm all this up. The more we have, the more leverage we have to force Warner to give up the rest of the conspiracy."

"What should we do now?" Ziva asked.

"Go home," he said. "Get some rest." He looked at all of them, one after another, and then said, "Go on. Tomorrow is going to be a big day, especially for you Detective." He started toward the elevator himself.

"You headed home too, Boss?" Tony asked.

"Nope," came the response. "I'm going to get coffee for McGee and Caf-Pow for Abby."


	20. Chapter 20

**CHAPTER TWENTY – Castle & Beckett, Gibbs & Kate, Tony & Ziva**

If there was one thing Kate Beckett didn't want to do, it was go back to the hotel and try to sleep. She'd been waiting for ten years, and now they were on the verge of identifying the men who'd ordered her mother's death. She'd feared the chance was lost for good when she was forced to put a bullet through Dick Coonan's heart to save Castle's life a few months earlier.

Alexis pulled her father aside, away from Beckett peeking back over her shoulder to make sure the Detective didn't follow them, that she wasn't close enough to overhear what she was about to ask. "Dad, is this really going to happen? Are you going to catch the guy who killed Detective Beckett's mother?"

"It looks that way, kiddo," he said, keeping his voice to a near whisper, the same as she had.

"You have to do something," she said.

"There's not much we can do right now," he said. "We're waiting for confirmation of some information, and then we'll start making arrests."

"That's not what I meant, Dad."

"What did you mean?"

"Look at her," Alexis said, peeking around the corner at the group. "See how pale she is? And, when was the last time you saw Detective Beckett biting her fingernails? You have to get her mind off of it before it eats her up."

She had a point. Beckett never showed nerves. After all, it was her mother's case. Gibbs wasn't likely to budge. Alexis was right. He needed to do something to take Kate's mind off it all. "How did you get so smart?" he asked, for what must have been the millionth time.

"We've been through this, Dad," she said. "We never found the answer. The best we managed to do was rule out genetics." He was actually rather proud of the way she could deliver that kind of zinger with a trademark grin that almost certainly was genetic.

"Can you take Esposito back to the hotel?"

"Sure," she said. "of course,…you might be the only father in history to encourage his teenage daughter to take a man twice her age to a hotel in a strange city."

With that sentence, she managed to accomplish something very rare. She'd flustered the unflappable Richard Castle. As he started to splutter, she laughed. "I was kidding, Dad." She reached up on her tip-toes and kissed his cheek. "Don't get in too late, or I'll have to ground you."

"Yes, Daughter," he said, finding his voice again.

When they returned to the Bullpen, DiNozzo and David were gone. Gibbs and Todd had gone down to Abby's lab. Beckett was standing in front of the plasma, biting her fingernails and staring at the pictures of Evan Haines, Elliott Warner and Merton Bell. Esposito sat behind her, on the edge of Gibbs' desk, his concern for her painted all over his face.

Alexis walked straight up to Esposito. "Would you mind driving me back to the hotel, Detective?" she asked. "I have a chemistry test on Monday, second period. I really need to study."

"Sure thing kid," Javier said. "You guys ready?"

"You go ahead," Castle said. "We'll be along."

Esposito nodded, understanding. Without a word, he conveyed his message to Castle with a simple look, "Make sure she's okay!" He plucked the keys to Caitlyn's car from Beckett's purse, which was sitting, unzipped, on the edge of Ziva's desk. "Let's go," he said to Alexis, walking with her to the elevator.

Castle and Beckett had the Bullpen to themselves. He looked around again to double-check, and then asked, "Are you alright, Kate?"

It was his use of her first name again that caught her attention. "What?" she asked, and then followed that up with, "Where did Javier and Alexis go?"

"Back to the hotel," Castle said, taking her by the arm. "Come on." He scooped up her purse with his other hand, handing it to her as they made their way to the elevator.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Out," he said. "We'll see Washington at night. Walk the mall, visit the Lincoln Memorial, have dinner at Antonio's Steak House." When the elevator arrived, they stepped on.

"Thanks, Rick," she said.

"Don't thank me yet," he said. "Maybe I'll do something you don't like tonight."

"I think that's a given," she said, "and don't forget, I carry a gun." As the doors opened on the bottom floor, and they stepped out, the ghost of a smile graced Beckett's lips, the first he'd seen in hours.

DiNozzo drove home, as was their custom, whether they were going to her place or his. Her driving had a way of setting him on edge, even though he was getting more and more used to it. It was her apartment in Silver Springs they were headed for on this night.

They made a call from the car to Enzo's, their favorite pizza place. They stopped on the way to pick up Tony's favorite, extra cheese, sausage, and pepperoni. Ziva had learned to love it as well. While she got the pizza, he slipped down to the other end of the plaza and got a movie from the video store before circling back to pick her up.

They hadn't been in the apartment for thirty seconds before the movie and pizza box were on the counter, all but forgotten. There was a train of discarded clothing from the door to the couch.

Forty minutes later, they were nibbling on a slice apiece, wrapped in a comforter they shared. As always, Tony wondered when the police would come bursting through the door and drag him away for attempted murder. Ziva had been all too serious when she described herself as a "screamer".

"You want to pop the movie in?" he asked.

"Sure," Ziva said. "What did you get?"

"The French Connection," Tony answered, slipping out from the comforter to turn on the DVD player and insert the film.

"Is it good?"

"Excellent," Tony said. "Gene Hackman as Popeye Doyle. The car chase scene was ground-breaking at the time."

"I am sure that it will good, my little hairy butt," she said.

"Thanks, Sweet Cheeks," he answered with a grin. "You want another slice while I'm up?"

"Please," she said.

He came back with two more slices, on paper plates and returned to the kitchen coming back with a lemon-lime soda for himself and a glass of red wine for Ziva. She grinned at him, waggling her eyebrows suggestively as he climbed back under the comforter with her.

"Later," he said. "I could use a little rest and some pizza. Besides, you'll like this movie."

She chuckled, but started her next slice and followed it with a sip of wine, while he pointed the remote at the DVD player and hit the play button.

Gibbs stayed at NCIS for another two hours, then ordered Abby and McGee to head home. There was no use keeping them all night. He watched them get into the elevator and then called himself a cab. He'd sent Kate home with his car shortly after the others.

He was really looking forward to arresting Merton Bell. He was a slimy son of a bitch, who'd managed to weasel his way free of the Mexican authorities. All that much the better, he supposed. If he was in jail in Mexico, it would be impossible for Gibbs to arrest him here.

He climbed into the cab and gave the cabbie his home address. He handed the driver a twenty to pay for a sixteen dollar fare. "Keep it," he said, stepping out onto the curb and heading up the walk.

He unlocked the door, the one he'd never bothered to lock before Kate had moved in. He'd never had anything in the house so precious he couldn't bear to lose it before.

He stepped across the threshold and his nose immediately picked up the scent of Kate's homemade lasagna. The grumbling that immediately started in his stomach told him just how hungry he was. Unless his senses were lying to him, she'd made garlic bread as well.

"Smells great," he said, coming around the corner into the kitchen.

"Thanks," Kate said. She opened the oven and pulled out the pan. The bread was on the counter, fresh from the oven as well, the cheese on top bubbling. The lasagna was perfectly browned on top.

"You had Henry call you when I left the building," Gibbs guessed.

"Yup."

"Clever," he said. They sat at the table and shared the meal, mostly in companionable silence. Gibbs sipped at a Corona with a wedge of lime, a habit he'd picked up while spending time in Mexico with Mike Franks. Kate had half a glass of Pinot Noir.

They finished their dinner, and Gibbs did the dishes. It was an agreement they'd made. If one cooked, the other cleaned up. Kate went into the front room and sat on the couch, her legs curled up under her. She set her wine, now down to a quarter of a glass, on the end table next to her. She picked up Castle's book from the coffee table and opened to the page where she'd left off, setting aside her bookmark.

When Gibbs finished the dishes, he came into the room. He turned the stereo on low, and put a record on the turntable. He was the only person Kate knew who still listened to records. Sure, McGee collected some music on vinyl, but so far as she knew, Gibbs didn't even own any CDs, and she was fairly certain he'd be utterly lost trying to download a song. The album he'd chosen was Sinatra.

He had poured himself a three finger glass of bourbon, neat. He sat at the other end of the couch, setting the bourbon on the table at his end. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, letting Old Blue Eyes start to calm his nerves. Kate un-tucked her legs, stretching them out, so her feet rested in his lap.

He used one hand to drink his bourbon. He slid his other hand up and down her leg, allowing himself to revel in the softness of her skin. They stayed that way until the album had run its course. When it had, Kate set her book aside and slid over next to him. He kissed her, and then again, before getting up. He took the dirty glasses into the kitchen while she turned off the stereo and the lights. They walked down the hall together, to the bedroom.

In an hour, they were sound asleep in one another's arms, both exhausted from the long day, and from the, rather pleasant, way they'd spent that last hour.

After leaving NCIS, castle and Beckett took a cab to Antonio's. They had Steak Diane, prepared tableside, and Crème Brule for dessert. Castle was amazing. He kept the conversation light, telling her stories of his past, and surprisingly few were about other women. She did get to hear about the reasons that he'd found himself naked, riding a stolen police horse. By the time they'd finished their appetizer, a lightly fried Camembert cheese served with champagne mustard, the tight feeling in her chest was gone, as was the anxiety over the impending possibility of finding her mother's killer.

She didn't know how he did that. He made her smile, made her laugh. He made her let go of herself in ways that she hadn't been able to in nearly a decade. She'd been fighting it for almost two years. Everyone knew that she'd fallen for him. Lanie was the first to see it, but Esposito and Ryan weren't too far behind. Even Captain Montgomery knew. She suspected that Castle knew as well. He'd never made any secret of his feelings for her.

He paid the check, leaving a gratuity for the server that was way beyond generous. He was a gentleman, holding her chair for her, helping her into her coat, and the door. She remembered the time, on one of their first cases, the one where the City Councilman had been found rolled up in a rug, he'd slipped through the door she opened, letting her hold it for him. She'd been amazed, at the time, that he had so few manners. She knew better these days. He'd been trying to get a rise out of her, and it had nearly worked.

Once back in another cab, he asked, "What should we do next? Lincoln Memorial? A walk through the National Mall?"

"How about we just go back to the hotel and curl up on the couch?" she suggested.

"Sounds good to me," he said. "Wait a minute. Will we be curling up together, or separately?"

"Guess," she said, wearing her best poker face. He immediately went into his sad, puppy dog face, complete with trembling lower lip, which always made her laugh. Of course, as soon as she did laugh, she got the trademark Castle grin.

Once back at the Adams House, they got into the elevator for the ride to the twelfth floor. By the time they'd hit the third floor, Kate made a decision she'd been slowly approaching for months. She turned to face Castle, pushed him back into the corner and then proceeded to kiss him, deeply, thoroughly.

For his part, Rick Castle was shocked. He'd always wanted to kiss Kate Beckett, and more than just the congenial kiss on the cheek, or the friendly press of his lips to the top of her head. He hadn't really expected it at that moment though, and he was caught completely off guard.

When she started to pull away, he decided that there was no way he was going to let that weak, surprised effort stand alone, so he pulled her back to him, gathering her into his arms. Beckett had been expecting better from the legendary lothario, Rick Castle when she pulled away from that first kiss. The second left her weak in the knees. If this was what she'd been missing for the last two years, why the hell had she put him off for so long?

They could barely keep their hands off one another, all the way down the hallway, to the door to their suite. Suddenly, Beckett pulled away. "Castle, wait," she said, breathlessly. "What about Alexis?"

He forced his mind out of the gutter for a moment, realizing she was right. They couldn't come through the door like a pair of wild animals. He took a deep breath, mirrored by her own, and then slipped the card into the electronic lock.

The suite was empty. Slivers of light came from beneath the doors to Alexis' room and the room Castle was sharing with Esposito. That was enough for them to let go again, kissing like mad all the way to Beckett's doorway. When they reached that doorway, Castle stopped, bracing himself in the door with both arms holding the frame. Beckett had hold of his jacket and tried to pull him in behind her.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her voice barely more than a husky whisper.

Castle looked deep into those beautiful green orbs and said, "I don't want to take advantage of you. You're vulnerable right now."

"If I didn't want you, I wouldn't be doing this," she said, leaning up to pepper the side of his neck with kisses.

"Kate," he said, "I don't want this to be a one-time thing."

"Me neither," she replied, he breath hot in his ear.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

She stepped back away from him, letting her hands go to her hips, allowing just a touch of Detective Beckett to creep back in. "I've been fighting this for two years, Castle. I'm tired of fighting it. Now, are you ever going to shut up, or should I get my handcuffs?"

He smiled then, closing the door behind him and sweeping her up into his arms as he moved toward the bed. "Just remember," he said, "my safe word is apples."

Outside, the doors to the other two rooms opened simultaneously, Javier Esposito and Alexis Castle peering out. Each looked around and noticed the sliver of light coming from beneath Beckett's door. They looked back to one another and grinned. "It's about time," Alexis said. Esposito just nodded.


	21. Chapter 21

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE – A Dream Fulfilled, Confirmation, & the Last Conspirator(s)**

The following morning, Kate Beckett opened her eyes and was momentarily panicked. She could feel the warmth radiating from Castle's body spooned up against her back. She'd had a few glasses of wine with dinner, but not enough to get her drunk. She bit her lower lip remembering the way she'd pulled him into her room, threatening to use her handcuffs on him even.

She could feel her cheeks heating from the rush of blood, yet she couldn't help running her fingers lightly over his arm that was draped across her body, feeling the tiny hairs there. She could still feel the heat of the two of them the night before.

The more she thought about it, the harder she found it not to smile. He'd been everything she'd hoped for, everything she'd been imagining he'd be for almost two years. He'd been all that and more, sweet, attentive, giving, but also demanding, and at times a little rough. Not enough to scare her, or make her uncomfortable, but enough for her to know just how much he wanted her, maybe even needed her. She'd certainly needed him.

"Hey," he mumbled into her ear. "How long have you been up?"

"Not long," she said, rolling over so she could face him. She hesitated before speaking again. There was very little on Earth that Rick castle found quite so adorable as Kate Beckett biting her lower lip, shy and nervous at the same time. He'd never seen her act that way before.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's been two years," she said quietly. "That's a lot of foreplay." He chuckled at the thought, mostly because it was right on the money. "I guess I was just hoping that it was everything you hoped for."

"And then some," he said, the twinkle still in his eyes, but his voice taking on a more serious tone. "Nikki Heat has nothing on you, Detective."

She smiled, and kissed him lightly. "I think you can call me Kate, and thank you," she said in a near whisper, "for being here, for being with me through all of this."

"Always," he simply said, and she didn't doubt his sincerity, not even a little bit.

"What are we going to tell Alexis?" Kate asked, blushing just a little.

"She's a big girl," Castle said. "She can handle it." He paused for a minute, considering how much he should say. In the end, he decided that he didn't want to keep secrets from Kate. "She told me the other day that you cared more for me than you let on."

"She did?"

"Yes. She's known that I've loved you for a long time. She tried to give me a push. She thinks you've felt the same for a while, and that I needed to make my own feelings clear to you."

"I have," she said, looking down, unable to meet his eyes, "but I was scared."

"I know that can't be true," Castle said. "I didn't think you were scared of anything, least of all me."

"Well, now you know different," Kate said. She looked back up into his eyes and kissed him lightly once more, and then climbed out of bed, wrapping the comforter around herself on the way to the bathroom. "I'm going to shower and get dressed," she said. "We need to be at NCIS in an hour."

As she walked away, Castle admired her backside. Just as she reached the door he said, "You were right, Kate." She looked back at him a little confused. "Two years ago in that alley, you told me so, and you were right. I had no idea." She smiled and dropped the comforter, slipping into the bathroom and closing the door, though not all the way, which he took as an invitation. The night before had been a long-standing dream come true for him, and it was only likely to get better from here.

Alexis smiled in the elevator on the way down to the restaurant. Her Dad had clearly spent the night with Detective Beckett, Kate. Everyone around them had been wondering when they'd finally cross that line. There wasn't much doubt that it would happen eventually, unless of course he did something stupid. _Not at all outside the realm of possibility_, she thought.

She loved her Dad, but he could be clueless at times. She laughed at the irony of that last thought. The clueless mystery writer and the clueless Detective, had finally gotten a clue, where their hearts were concerned.

She entered the restaurant and walked over to a table on the side. Detective Esposito was sitting with a cup of coffee and a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon, reading the New York Daily News.

"Would you mind if I joined you, Detective?" she asked. 

"No," Esposito said, "of course not." He set aside his paper and stood, pulling out a chair for her to take a seat.

"Thanks."

After he'd settled back in, she said," Sooo…" 

"Yeah," he replied.

Neither said anything else for a minute while Alexis perused the menu. The server came by and brought her a cup of coffee and a glass of orange juice, then took her order, Eggs Benedict.

Esposito was back to flipping through the paper, reading the an article in sports section about the upcoming football season and the Jets chances, when Alexis asked, "So who wins the pool then?"

"Excuse me?" he asked. "I'm not sure what you mean." His face was innocence itself. The problem was, he looked too innocent.

"Come on," she said. "You can tell me. I won't rat you out."

He looked at suspiciously. Could he trust her? Why not, he figured. It was clear he hadn't fooled her with his innocent act anyway.

"I don't know," he said. "The sign-up sheet is hidden in the bottom drawer of my desk, underneath my log book." She seemed to be taking what he said at face value. "I know I didn't win. I had sixteen months. It's been about twenty-three." After a little thought, he said, "Maybe Lanie, but I'll have to call Ryan later and have him check the sheet."

"How much does the winner get?" Alexis asked. She started in on her breakfast, which had just arrived.

"Two-hundred fifty."

"Wow," she said. "That's a nice pot."

"Yeah," he said, wondering how it was that every time they ran a pool, either Lanie or Beckett managed to win. "When are you going back to New York?"

"Dad arranged for a car to take me to the train station. My train leaves at noon. Gram is meeting me at Grand central. Looks like you won't have to share a room with him after today."

"Probably wouldn't have to anyway," Esposito mumbled into his coffee, trying not to let her see his grin.

"You're probably right," she said, making no attempt to hide her own grin.

Just after seven-thirty, the team had reassembled at NCIS. It was a Sunday, but that didn't seem to interest Gibbs in any way. He put them straight to work double-checking the backgrounds and financial histories of thirty-six other suspects, the ones that Damon Werth hadn't been able to recognize. "No reason to let something fall through the cracks because we were lazy," he said. Esposito doubted that anyone had ever accused the man of being lazy.

The exceptions were McGee and Abby. They already had assignments, assignments which had already borne fruit. By mid-day, McGee had managed to confirm that the account in the Caymans did indeed belong to Colonel Merton Bell, and that it was the same account to which the money from Warner was transferred in, and from which the start-up money for BDS was transferred out.

The numerous leads that the others worked amounted to a big giant pile of nothing, but then that was more or less what they'd expected.

Around three in the afternoon, McGee and Abby came into the Bullpen. Each wore a huge smile. They'd been working from Abby's lab all day.

Gibbs was just returning from a coffee run when they arrived at his desk.

"Judging from those grins," I'm guessing that the Geek Squad found something big," Tony said. McGee shot him a glare, but Abby's grin merely widened.

"That might be the understatement of the year, Tony," she said in her gravelly voice.

Gibbs nodded at McGee, and indication that he shouldn't keep them waiting, and one which the younger Agent took to heart.

Beckett's heart jumped into her throat. This was it, the final conspirator in her mother's killing. She instinctively grabbed Castle's hand, next to her. She didn't realize how hard she was squeezing until she heard his sharp intake of breath. She loosened her grip a little, but she didn't let go.

McGee said, "We tracked back all the accounts. It wasn't easy, but we managed to follow the money. We were right about the other two accounts. Five million went to Haines, left that account, and has now been invested in an Italian company making leather shoes, under a false name, Evan Hanley. Rough estimate, it's now worth nine million."

"The account for three million was for our dead hit man, Coonan," Abby jumped in. It was the original money transferred into the largest account McGee found for him earlier. That was the easiest to figure because he had a lot of previous info to work with."

Here it was. Beckett felt like she was having trouble getting enough oxygen. Castle rubbed her back with his free hand, hoping to soothe her nerves a bit.

"The last account, was the other big one," McGee said. "Fifteen million, just like Colonel Bell's. We traced it back, but the money had been transferred like eight times since the initial deposit, so what we did was,…"

Gibbs could feel a long-winded techno-babble filled explanation coming, so he cut it off. "McGee! Bottom line." 

"It's Alfred Markham, Boss," McGee said.

Beckett let out the breath she'd been holding without realizing it.

"The Senior Partner at Johanna Beckett's firm?" Kate asked, a little bit of surprise in her voice.

"Actually," Abby said, "he's a judge on the New York Supreme Court now."

"You're sure about this McGee?" Gibbs asked.

"We traced the account back to a Cheryl Lefebvre. She's an attorney at a very prestigious firm in Albany," McGee replied.

Abby jumped in. "She kept her birth name, but would you like to take a wild stab at whom Cheryl Lefebvre married in nineteen-ninety-five?"

"Alfred Markham," Beckett said. She had an almost dazed look in her eyes. She walked toward the plasma, where McGee had pulled up the most recent DMV photo of the Honorable Alfred H. Markham. "I remember, they came to our house once, for dinner. I must have been about fifteen. They weren't married yet. They brought her daughter,…I can't recall her name just now, from a previous marriage. She was maybe three or four years younger than me."

"Renee," Abby interjected. "The daughter's name is Renee."

Beckett nodded absently at the information. "We had prime rib roast and baby red potatoes with dill butter. My Mom spent the whole day in the kitchen, making sure everything was perfect."

Castle moved up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders. He gave a gentle squeeze, for support.

She went on, "He was the Senior Partner at the firm, her mentor. She always talked about him, about how smart he was, what a great lawyer he was. It must have devastated her to learn that he was involved in something so underhanded as the theft of that money."

"She might have even confronted him directly," Castle said. "When she did, he contacted the guy he knew would have the contacts to take care of the problem, the guy who had every bit as much at stake as he did, Merton Bell."

"And Bell hired Dick Coonan to find out who she told, and then kill her and them," DiNozzo said.

Ziva said, "Colonel Bell figured out how to steal the money, and he used Lieutenant Haines to do it."

Caitlyn put in, "Haines funneled the money to his half-brother, that no one even knows about."

"And Warner transfers the money to offshore accounts, from which the parties involved draw only when they need to," McGee said. "No wonder no one ever figured it out before now."

Gibbs smiled. "Good work, McGee, he said. "And you too," he said to Abby, pulling her into a one-armed hug and planting a little kiss on her forehead.

"One more thing, Gibbs," Abby said. "We double-checked the initial filing for Bell Defense Systems. The attorney of record was Cheryl Lefebvre."

"You want us to pick everyone up?" Esposito asked.

"Not yet," Gibbs said. "Kate, you and Esposito find Warner. Get him down here for a little chat."

"You got it, Gibbs," Agent Todd replied.

"DiNozzo, you go with Detective Beckett and Mr. Castle. Bring Haines in as well. Keep them separated."

"On it, Boss," Tony said.

"And Tony…" Gibbs started to say.

"If he resists, Detective Beckett gets to arrest him," DiNozzo supplied for him "My pleasure, Boss."

"What do you want me to do, Gibbs?" Ziva asked.

"You're going to make a phone call, and then we're going to make a plan," Gibbs said. Ziva grinned. He had something sneaky in mind, and she was pretty sure that she was going to like it.


	22. Chapter 22

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I enjoyed the earlier appearance of the crew from Burn Notice, so I decided to bring them back in again. I hope you enjoy. If you don't recognize the name, the DC cop Gibbs mentions was the Metro version of Gibbs in the episode called Doppleganger (Ep. 2.12).

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO – Smart & Devious, Break One, Break Two**

Gibbs was sitting in Vance's office, having a drink with the Director. He'd given a full report, and then outlined the basics of his plan.

"Let me get this straight," Vance said, his voice making it clear that he couldn't quite believe what his ears were hearing. "You want me to authorize an undercover operation, sending two men inside Bell Defense Systems, neither of whom is an NCIS Agent, in order to kidnap Merton Bell?"

"More or less," Gibbs said.

"And who do you plan to use to get inside?"

"Michael Westen and Sam Axe."

"The Burned, former CIA guy, and a Navy SEAL who's been retired for ten years, and getting fat on beer in Miami."

"I've read Westen's file," Gibbs said. "Got it from Fornell. The Burn on him was highly questionable, at best. Ziva has worked with him in the past, twice, and she gave him the nod without hesitation."

Vance gave his subordinate the hard-eyed stare, but found that it had the same effect it usually did with Gibbs, none.

"Axe was one of the best," Gibbs said. "According to my people, he handled himself well when they were down there."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Vance asked. Gibbs told him about the initial standoff at Madeleine Westen's home. "I notice that none of this made it into your initial report," Vance said.

"You blame me?" Gibbs answered.

"No. Why use Westen and Axe?" the Director queried. "This seems like a perfect job for Callen and Hanna."

"After our problems with him last year, Bell will be expecting more," Gibbs told him. "He managed to slip the charges in Mexico, and he'll know that we'll want him to go down for something. He will have studied up on us, and he still has the contacts in the military and intel communities to find out almost anything."

"Callen is one of the best I've ever seen at undercover work. You think Bell might know about him?" Vance was clearly against bringing in anyone from out of house, or maybe it was just Westen.

"It's a risk either way, Leon. In my opinion, at the moment, Westen is the smaller risk."

"And if Bell looks into Westen's background…" Vance began.

"He's going to see exactly what we want him to see. A guy with all the right skills, military and intelligence work in his background, with no strong ties to any government or agency, a guy who is fed up with scraping by," Gibbs answered. "He's going to see a potential perfect hire."

"And Axe?"

"Part of the deal with Westen. He's a strong hire as well, and the two for one package will make it seem less like Westen is trying to worm in, and more like he wants in, but doesn't have to get in."

"Plus, you get two men inside instead of one."

"Neither of them has ever worked for, or with NCIS," Gibbs said. "The closest either has come was when Axe got in a bar fight while he was still a SEAL and the incident was investigated by the base NCIS agent."

"Alright, you sold me," Vance said, rolling the toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other, "but you are going to be ready to go in strong if necessary, right?"

"Oh yeah," Gibbs said. "When we're ready to go on this op, DiNozzo, David & Todd will be within a block and a half, along with Balboa's team. We'll have four NYPD Detectives, a DC cop that I trust, by the name of Cheney, and Fornell is going to have the FBI's HRT team on standby. Plus, he said he'd loan me Booth if I need him."

"He's a hell of sniper, as I recall," Vance said.

"Oh yeah," Gibbs answered. "Might even be better than I was."

"Impressive," Vance said. Gibbs just shrugged.

By shortly after noon, the half-brothers, Evan Haines and Elliott Warren were each sitting in an NCIS interrogation room, alone. It had been arranged to let them see one another, from a distance, as they were being escorted to the rooms, but they were not allowed to speak. Each had now been sitting for about forty minutes, cooling their heels. A Probie guarded each door, preventing them from getting up and walking out, though the Probie's were under strict instructions not to speak to the subjects.

Elliott Warren was well on his way to setting a new world's record for fidgeting when the door to his room opened and two people came in. The man who'd been guarding his door left immediately, pulling the door closed behind him.

It was a man and woman. They introduced themselves as NCIS Special Agent LeRoy Jethro Gibbs and NYPD Detective Katherine Beckett.

"Do you know why you're here, Elliott?" the man asked.

"No, Sir," he answered.

"Don't call me Sir," the man replied, somewhat testily, "I work for a living."

"Are you going to tell me why I'm here? Do I need a lawyer?"

"That's up to you," the lady Detective said. "Of course, asking for a lawyer puts an end to any conversation, and that includes any deals we might be willing to make with you."

"What do you mean deals?" he asked, but the sinking feeling in his stomach was enough to let him know that the jig was finally up.

"We've got you cold on wire fraud, grand larceny, and securities and exchange violations," Gibbs said, tapping the manila envelope that rested under his hands on the table. It was thick with papers inside.

"I…" he started to say.

Beckett cut him off. "Don't say anything, just yet. We'll tell you what we know, and then you can decide if you want us to call a lawyer for you, or if you want to make a deal to avoid a charge of Conspiracy to Commit Murder in the First Degree."

"Murder?" he gulped, and Gibbs knew right there that they had him, so long as they continued to play it right.

"In nineteen-ninety-nine," Gibbs said, giving him the exact date, "forty million dollars went missing from a DOD black ops fund. You're half-brother Evan diverted that money to you, and you wired it to the Cayman Islands. That's Grand Larceny and Wire Fraud."

Beckett picked up from there. "Except, of course, for the two million that you kept for your cut. That went into a stock purchase about half a year later, Bell Defense Systems. Of course, you had prior knowledge of BDS. That's Insider Trading, a Securities and Exchange violation. There goes your trading license." She shook her head as if that was a sad, sad thing for her to have to say.

Gibbs smirked a little. Beckett was damned good at this.

Elliott was turning green around the gills. He would either break or call for a lawyer soon. Time to hit him hard, then throw him a lifeline.

"We know all about that," Gibbs said, "but it's not all we know. We also know that another lawyer at Markham, King & Obermeier found out about the theft. She was going to report everything, so Markham talked to Merton Bell, and Bell had Dick Coonan kill her and the reporter she was going to tell her story to. That's why you wired three million into an account for him. That's Conspiracy to commit murder." When he started to respond, Gibbs simply held up one finger to silence him, then pointed to Beckett.

She said, "Hiring a hit man shows premeditation. That makes this a special circumstance case. That means the death penalty."

Elliott started to cry. "I…sniff…want…"

Beckett cut him off before he could ask for the lawyer. "Of course," she said, "you're not the one we really want. If you sign a confession, and tell us everything you know, I'll make sure that the Special Circumstance allegations come off the table. No needle, you might even get out while you're still young enough to live a little."

"I…I need time to think," he said.

"Sure," Gibbs answered. "We'll give you half an hour." They got up and started to leave, but Gibbs turned back as they reached the door. "We'll be next door, talking to your brother for the next half hour." He paused, and then said, "Oh, and if he gives us what we want before you do, he gets the deal instead of you."

The wide, terrified, tear-filled eyes pretty much said it all. They moved to the observation side of the glass and stood watching for a few minutes until the door opened. DiNozzo and Todd walked in.

"Any luck?" Gibbs asked.

"Not yet," Tony said, "but he'll get there. Right now, I think he's trying to protect baby bro in there," Tony nodded his head toward Elliott, who was now weeping openly. "I was thinking of letting Ziva have a go at him."

Gibbs chuckled. It was amazing how intimidating a woman as small as Ziva could be, but she sure was effective.

"Looks like you guys will nail this one down soon enough," Kate said, watching Elliott through the one-way glass.

"Yup," Gibbs said. "We give him a few more minutes, and when we go back in, he'll be begging to confess."

He was right, and so was DiNozzo. Ziva was easily able to break Haines, and she did so without actually doing him any physical harm. Both admitted to the Grand Larceny and the Wire Fraud. Elliott admitted to Insider Trading as well. He claimed to have no knowledge of the murders. He claimed he didn't know why Coonan was included in the division of the money.

Haines agreed. He claimed that Bell had arranged the hit with Coonan. He claimed they'd been together when Markham and Lefebvre had called, in a panic. Johanna Beckett had overheard something. They didn't think that she knew they knew about her. By that evening, Johanna was dead, and Theodore Warren before noon the next day.

They had everything they needed. Gibbs set Agent Lee to getting a warrant for any and all files at both Markham, King and Obermeier, and also Gregory and Lefebvre, regarding Bell Defense Systems.


	23. Chapter 23

AUTHOR'S NOTE: We're getting down to it here. The story is finished, and it runs through Chapter 26. I hope you all continue to enjoy. I've already begun jotting down notes for a 4th part, with NCIS once again combining with another show (or three), but I am nowhere near ready to begin writing again. I hope you continue to enjoy this story, right up through the end, G

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE – A Spy, a SEAL & a Plan**

Around five o'clock that evening, Kate Todd met the SECNAV's Gulfstream at Reagan National, in the Private Terminal. She directed Michael Westen and Sam Axe to her NCIS, dark blue Dodge.

"I hope the flight was okay," she said.

"The flight was fine," Michael said. "I'm just glad they didn't send Ziva to pick us up."

"She can't drive any crazier than Fi, Mike," Sam said. That got a chuckle from Kate.

Sam looked at her and asked, "She's really that bad?"

"Oh, yes, and then some," Kate said, "on her good days."

"I'm impressed you survived two missions with her, Mikey," Sam said.

"I never let her drive." He watched Caitlyn Todd behind his sunglasses. She wasn't ignoring them, but she certainly didn't seem overly interested either. His instincts told him that she was just very good at hiding her interest.

"So, do you want to explain what this job is that you want us to do?" Sam asked.

"I can't do that just yet, Mr. Axe," she answered.

"It's Sam," he said.

She smiled at him in the rearview mirror. "Sam," she said. "My Boss will explain everything when we get there."

"Mikey here wasn't supposed to leave Miami. The folks in the Agency might be a little upset with him."

"We'll take care of that," she said. "If they give you any problems, call me. Director Vance will make sure that they know you were working with us, at our request."

When they arrived at NCIS, they whisked right through Security. There were visitor's badges premade and waiting. Kate led them off the elevator and into the Bullpen.

A quick round of introductions took place. The entire team was there, including Ducky. Ryan and Montgomery had caught a commuter flight down to be briefed, and to possibly take part in the action of the following day. Seeley Booth and Tobias Fornell represented the FBI, along with an Agent Farraday, the Hostage Rescue Team commander. The final participant was Damon Werth.

After everyone had settled, Gibbs signaled McGee, who pulled up a picture of Bell Defense Systems on the plasma, followed quickly by a shot from above and an architectural blueprint.

"This is the main building at Bell Defense, here in DC," Gibbs said. "Reception is here," he pointed with an old fashioned pointer, "and Merton Bell's office is here." He motioned and McGee clicked the remote again. "This is Colonel Bell," Gibbs said. "He is the target. He is surrounded by no less than four heavily armed men, and he has dozens of others nearby at all times."

"That's where we come in," Michael said.

"Yes," from Ziva.

"We want you two to go in as mercenaries looking for work. We are assured by a former employee of Bell's," Gibbs motioned to Werth, "that Bell is directly involved in all first interviews."

"Once we're in, we take out the bodyguards and bring Bell out to you then?" Sam asked.

"We'll tag you with a radio transmitter in a ball-point pen," Fornell said. "They'll sweep you when you go in for bugs. The bug will be dormant when you go in. After the sweep, you click the pen to activate the bug." Fornell handed him a very normal-looking pen. "It also works as a pen," he said.

"Terrific," Michael said. "Once we leave his office, how do we get out through the Security gate?"

"Agent Balboa's team will arrange a diversion, a Security breach along the south wall, on the other side of the compound from Bell's office," Gibbs said. "That should draw much of the Security away from you."

"And some to Bell, and some to the gate," Sam said.

"As soon as the diversion hits, we'll take the gate," Gibbs said. "DiNozzo, Todd, Ryan and Montgomery from the east. Ziva, Esposito, Beckett and Fornell from the west. Agent Booth and I will cover from this building here," he pointed to a tall building a short ways from BDS. "Agent Farraday and his HRT team will be ready to move from the staging area, here," he pointed to an alley across the way from BDS.

"It looks pretty straightforward," Michael said. "I think we can make it work. What do you think, Sam?"

"I think that if we're gonna do this, then you should get something out of it, like your Burn Notice revoked."

"That's not a promise I can make," Gibbs said. "I can guarantee you that NCIS will make note of your assistance in your file. Hell, you pull this off, you might just impress Director Vance," he nodded to the man standing at the top of the stairs watching the meeting going on below. "He might end up offering you a job."

"I'm a spy, not a cop," Michael said.

"We do some of that too," Kate said, sharing a smile with Ziva.

They spent the better part of the next two hours planning. No one on the team liked it, but they were all aware that there was no way Westen and Axe could carry anything resembling a weapon into BDS. They were sure to be thoroughly searched.

"That's not really a major problem," Michael said. "He's a former Army Colonel. There will be any number of things in his office we'll be able to use as weapons." He shared a quick look with Sam. "The trouble will be getting from his office to the gate and then outside. I still think it would be best if I did this on my own," he said, for the third time.

And, for the third time, Sam responded, "No way, Mikey. There is no way in hell that I'm letting you go in there by yourself."

In the end, Michael relented, after Sam threatened him with phone calls to Fiona and Madeleine, both. They ended up making a few minor tweaks to the plan, but it was essentially as solid as they could make it. There were certainly risks, but ones Michael was willing to take, and which Sam was determined not to let him take alone.


	24. Chapter 24

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR – Taking Bell, & a Flight to Albany**

The following morning found Michael and Sam approaching the front gate of Bell Defense Systems in Bethesda, just outside of DC. Michael was impeccably dressed, as usual, black slacks, white button down shirt, black necktie a perfectly tailored black sport coat, and of course, sunglasses. Sam, true to himself, wore khakis and a Hawaiian shirt. Neither was armed with anything larger than a Swiss Army knife.

Michael approached the gate guard at ten to nine in the morning, and flashed his million dollar smile. "Hi," he said. "My name is Michael Westen. I'm here to see Colonel Merton Bell. I believe he's expecting me."

"And what's with Magnum, PI over there?" the guard asked, tilting his head in Sam's direction.

"Hey that's really funny," Sam said. "I've never heard that before," the sarcasm practically oozed from his pores.

"He's Sam Axe," Michale said. "He's with me."

The guard turned to his companion. "Frisk them," he said. "I'll call it in." He entered the guard shack and picked up the phone.

"Hey aren't you gonna buy me a drink first?" Sam asked, as he and Michael endured an extremely thorough pat-down.

"They've got an appointment," the first guard said, coming out from the shack. "Corelli's on his way down to escort them to the Command Center." The guy gave them the hard stare, which might have worked, had they been twelve years old. Instead, Michael waited patiently. Sam blew him a kiss, eliciting a grimace.

In a few moments, a guard arrived & they were allowed to follow him to the main building. Michael, only his eyes moving behind the sunglasses, counted no fewer than eleven heavily armed men between the gates and the building. He was beginning to think that, perhaps, Sam might have been right.

It was too late to back out. If they did, it would come down to an all out assault by NCIS, the FBI, and the NY and DC Police Departments. A lot of people could end up dead.

(Cut to Voice Over as Michael & Sam follow the guard to the main building) Michael Westen: _"When you're a spy, one of the assignments you have to undertake most often is getting something, usually it's something very well-guarded, out of a place that is designed to prevent such an occurrence. Your best friend is information. You count the number of guards on your way in, and make note of their locations. You note any possible improvised weapons, such as a rake with a long wooden handle, propped against a wall and left untended by a gardener, or a rock garden filled with stones just about half the size of a baseball, and more or less round and smooth. You count the steps between likely hiding places, or areas that will provide cover against gunfire. There's no telling what might be important to know later on."_ (End of Voice Over)

When they reached the main building, they were greeted by three more guards. Two patted them down again while the third waved an electronic wand over them, one which would pick up any electromagnetic signatures, such as the bug in their pen would put out once they activated it.

Once they'd been cleared, they were asked to wait outside Colonel Bell's office. His assistant, a young man, perhaps twenty-eight, or so, with a military haircut, watched them nearly as closely as he did his computer screen. Michael smiled at him reassuringly. Sam scowled.

They waited for nearly fifteen minutes before they were called into the office. Sam had begun to grow impatient. Michael had barely moved a muscle, at least in any obvious way. "I could sure use a beer, Mikey," Sam said, just before the assistant stood and asked them to follow him in, opening the office door.

Colonel Bell sat behind a large mahogany desk, with a large pair of French doors behind him. The doors faced the interior of the compound, and through the glass Michael and Sam could see what was clearly an obstacle course for the BDS recruits. There were a pair of flags to either side of the doors. Over Bell's left shoulder were Old Glory and a black flag with the BDS insignia in the center. Over his right shoulder was a Maryland state flag and a US Army banner. Next to each pair of flags stood a man, armed with a nine millimeter Sig-Sauer P225. Neither appeared to have a neck.

The office was nicely appointed, with a pair of overstuffed chairs, and a Persian rug. Michael immediately took note of the pearl handled forty-five with a loaded clip in a display case to his right, and what appeared to be an authentic Japanese katana, both highly polished, gleaming. If it came to it, Michael would grab the sword. There was no way for him to tell if the forty-five caliber bullets in the gun were real, or blanks without examining them more closely. Above the display case, mounted on the wall were a trio of clocks, with second hands, one each showing the current time in DC, Kabul & Baghdad.

Merton Bell was in his sixties, but still in very fine shape. His hair was cut short, but not quite military. He wore a dark blue suit with a red power tie. His skin was tanned, as if he'd spent a good deal of time in a warm climate recently. Michael was intimately familiar with the look. Bell stood and extended his hand. "Mr. Weston, and Mr. Axe."

They shook hands and each took a seat. Michael retrieved a small spiral notebook and the pen from his inside coat pocket. When he reached into his coat, despite the fact that he'd already been frisked twice, both bodyguards visibly tensed. He clicked the pen once, extending the ball-point and activating the transmitter. "You don't mind if I take a few notes?" Michael asked.

"Not at all," Colonel Bell said, waving his hand once.

They spent the next ten minutes discussing Michael's, and Sam's careers. They were both surprised by the amount of information that Bell seemed to have, regarding them. Michael's Burn Notice didn't seem to lower his opinion of him. If anything, it seemed to raise it. It was an interesting fact. Michael let his eyes wander around the room again, trailing across the clocks without stopping, without drawing attention that they were what he really wanted to see.

(Cut to Voice Over as Michael and Sam talk to Bell) _"For a spy, so much counts on accurate timing, but you can't always be checking your watch, or staring at the nearest clock. That tends to make people suspicious. If you're going to be in a meeting where you know something will happen, like say, a small explosion nearby, a diversion, and you know the time the diversion will take place, you want to be ready. Check your watch just before you enter, then check any clock with a second hand you can see, if there is one, if not, any clock will do, and reconcile the two. The clock on the wall may be off a little from your own watch. If you just checked, the difference should be an easy calculation, and from that point forward, you can use the enemy's timing device to keep track of your own operational timeframe. It also helps if you train yourself to count off seconds at an accurate pace."_ (End of Voice Over)

Michael's watch was set eleven seconds behind the Colonel's clock. That meant twenty-six seconds until the diversion. He tapped his right foot twice, and after a second's delay, three more times, giving Sam the current count, and readied himself for the moment of truth.

The Colonel had just started to ask a question about a mission Michael had once undertaken in Peru, when the explosion came from the far end of the compound. Both bodyguards reacted simultaneously, but they were a second slow. The explosion had made both turn their heads to assess if there was an incoming threat, while Michael and Sam leapt out of their chairs like defensive linemen who knew the snap count ahead of time.

The guy in front of Sam was black and built like he might have played defensive tackle for Grambling, or maybe nose tackle, but he had the quick hands of a wideout. He had the Sig halfway clear of the holster when Sam hit him, driving him backward, and out through the French glass doors. His head cracked on the pavement outside when he went down, the gun skittering away across the ground.

Michael's guy was blonde, and looked more like a cross between a Nebraska farm boy and a Hitler Youth. He easily topped six-five, and was at least seventy pounds heavier than former CIA operative.

(Cut to Voice Over as Michael attacks the bodyguard) _"When you're forced to face a much larger and more powerful enemy in hand-to-hand combat, there are two schools of thought. You can try to avoid them, use available space to keep them away from you until you can get your hands on a weapon to level the playing field, or you can cheat, fight dirty, and take away their advantage." (End of Voice Over)_

The huge man also went for his gun, but Michael closed the gap between them too quickly, hitting his wrist with a ridge-hand strike, and simultaneously kicking the larger man in the side of his knee, turning his hip into the kick for maximum power. He went down, and Michael twisted the gun from his already numbing fingers. He'd walk again, with some therapy, but he'd never do it without a limp.

The gun now in his control, Michael spun and warned the Colonel against going for the gun in his, now half open, desk drawer. Sam moved to stand just to the side of the doorway to the office. The assistant came bursting through , his own sidearm out, but lowered. As he saw Michael, weapon trained on the Colonel, he began to raise his own weapon, only to crash to the floor unconscious himself as Sam gave him a two-handed hammer blow to the back of the neck. Sam scooped up the man's Baretta ninety-two and peeked out into the hallway. "It's clear," he said.

Michael got the Colonel up and moving. Inside of thirty seconds, they were on the way out toward the front gate. A pair of Bell's soldiers, wielding M-16 assault rifles moved to intercept them, only to be lifted from their feet crashing to the ground, the wind knocked completely out of them by rubber bullets fired by Gibbs and Booth. Sam grabbed the Colonel and dragged him toward the gate, which had already been secured by NCIS, FBI and NYPD, the three guards there when the commotion started, down on the floor of the guard shack, unarmed.

Another guard came running around the corner of the building. Not wanting to shoot him without a need, Michael reacted quickly, grabbing up the unattended rake and using it to clothesline the guard, before dropping it. He'd have a broken nose and two black eyes, not to mention a severe headache later, but he hadn't been shot.

As they picked up their pace, Michael saw movement in the upper windows of what looked like a barracks building to their right. He grabbed up one of the stones from the rock garden and hurled it at one of the windows, just as one of the guards appeared at the next window over. As his rock crashed through, he yelled, "Fire in the hole!"

The guards, reacting as he'd hoped, dove for cover, temporarily deceived into believing that the rock had been a grenade. The delay allowed Michael and Sam to reach the Gate with the Colonel, shoving him into the back of a dark Chevy Suburban, which squeeled away from BDS, with Ziva behind the wheel. DiNozzo leaned over the front passenger seat, clipping a pair of cuffs onto the wrists of the still stunned Colonel.

"Hey Merton," he said with a cheeky grin. "It's great to see you again. By the way. You're under arrest for Grand Larceny, Wire Fraud, and Consipracy to commit murder." He immediately read the man his rights, as did Detective Beckett who occupied the seat to Bell's left.

Miraculously, once they were safely away from BDS, Ziva slowed to a fairly sedate speed, for her. Before long, the rest of the team had caught up, except for the FBI HRT (Hostage Rescue Team), and Agent Fornell, who would be serving BDS with a Federal Warrant, and taking any of the guards who resisted into custody.

Once back at NCIS, it didn't take Bell long to see the lay of the land, including the dual signed confessions implicating him. He agreed to testify as well, naming Judge Markham as his co-conspirator in a deal that removed the death penalty from the table in his own case. His attorney came in breathing fire and brimstone, only to see the mountain of evidence against him, at which point, she'd advised the deal.

By one-thirty, Kate Beckett, Esposito, Castle, who was still whining about not being allowed to participate, nor even watch from close-up the raid on BDS, as well as Agents Gibbs and Todd, and Agent Booth, were on an FBI private jet headed for Albany. Todd, Esposito and David would serve their warrant on the law firm of Gregory and Lefebrve for all documents pertaining to BDS, and arrest Cheryl Lefebvre, while Gibbs, Booth, Castle and Beckett arrested the Judge. Becket could hardly wait.


	25. Chapter 25

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here we are, the penultimate chapter, and essentially the wrap up to the case. Chapter 26 is essentially the epilogue. I hope everyone has enjoyed this story. I very much appreciated all the reviews and PMs. Thanks, G

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE – Beckett Gets Her Man & Woman**

It was a fairly quiet day in Albany. The temperature was in the mid fifties, and the blue sky gave the day a hopeful and energetic feel. A pair of black, unmarked state vehicles pulled up in front of the capital building. Gibbs, Castle, Beckett and Booth stepped out, along with a pair of New York State Troopers. They marched up the steps and into the building.

A moment, ten years in the making was unfolding, and Beckett had to restrain herself from running forward, ahead of the others.

A bailiff tried to stop them from entering the closed court proceeding, but he was quickly overawed by the various credentials and the federal arrest warrant. They group pushed through the doors and headed in.

The panel of judges, five in all stopped their discussions and looked up. One of their clerks, boldly stepped forward, demanding that they depart immediately, only to be restrained by one of the Troopers.

The group stopped, maybe fifteen feet in front of the bench. One of the judges called for the bailiff to come and remove "these people" from the court, but he only stood in the doorway, watching.

Kate Beckett stepped up, in front of the others. She said, "Alfred Markham, we have warrants, one federal, and one from the state of New York, for your arrest."

"This is preposterous," Markham said while rising, his indignation clear on his face. At least two of the other judges began to join his outburst.

Gibbs said loudly, "You are charged under federal statutes with Grand Larceny from the Department of Defense, and International Banking violations, including wire fraud."

Beckett picked up where he left off. "The state of New York is charging you with Conspiracy to commit murder. Step down, please." There was nothing of asking in her voice. It was a demand, pure and simple.

Markham looked at her then, really looked at her for the first time. "You're Thomas and Johanna Becketts' daughter, aren't you? Surely you can't be serious."

The other judges, sensing something about this situation had all gone quiet. In fact, the room had suddenly become so quiet that you could have heard a pin drop in the hallway outside.

Beckett said, "Among the murders you are charged with conspiring in, are the murders of Johanna Beckett and Theodore Warren. Now, step down!" Her raised voice rang out loud and clear. A small group of state employees had gathered outside the courtroom, standing clear, but trying to peek in, to see what the commotion was about.

"Warren," one of the Judges said, "the Daily News reporter?"

"He was killed in a mugging," another put in.

"This is outrageous," Markham blustered, but his eyes had begun to wander the room, seeking a way out of this. "I am a State Supreme Court Judge, and I won't be treated this way!"

"Not after today, you're not," Gibbs said, as Beckett began to move up to the bench, taking her handcuffs from the case at the back of her belt. Gibbs voice was soft, cold, matter of fact.

"I'm demand to have my lawyer present," the Judge said, starting to move away from Beckett.

"Your wife's firm will be sending someone soon I'm sure," Booth said.

"What?" the Judge asked. "What does she have to do with this?"

"You can drop the act, Mr. Markham," Booth said.

"You will at least show Judge Markham the respect he is due," one of the other Judges said.

"No," Gibbs said. "We won't."

Beckett took great relish in telling Markham, "We arrested your wife as a co-conspirator less than half an hour ago." His flabbergasted expression was priceless. "We have sworn testimony from three of your accomplices. Now turn and place your hands against the wall."

"Your friend, Colonel Bell ratted you out," Booth said. "He told us all about how you arranged his release from a Mexican prison by voiding the conviction of the son of some high Mexican Official here in New York for rape and assault. I'm pretty sure that qualifies as Corruption."

Markham's face had gone white as a sheet, but he refused to accept what was plain. "I did no such thing," he said, his voice high and tight with strain. "And, I will not allow you to arrest me."

In a single, quick, fluid motion, she grabbed his wrist, twisting his arm behind his back, her other hand going to the back of his neck. Despite his sixty-some-odd pound weight advantage, she slammed his face down onto the top of the bench, forcing him to cry out in pain.

"You can't do that!" one of the Judges protested.

"I'd say that he was clearly resisting arrest," Booth said.

"Oh yeah," Gibbs answered. "She gave him a lawful order twice before taking him down."

Castle had been remarkably quiet throughout the entire ordeal, but he was now grinning ear to ear. "It's a good thing that you've always been such a strong supporter of the death penalty in this state, Judge," Castle said. "I'm betting you're going to get a close up look at how that whole system works over the next few months." They'd actually done it. He couldn't have been happier for Beckett.

Beckett clicked the cuffs onto his wrists, tightening them until they bit into his skin, and not caring a whit when he cried out. She roughly pulled him to his feet and pushed him forward, into the arms of Trooper Daniels. "Get this piece of garbage out of here," she said.

Castle moved to her, wrapping his arms around her. Her shoulders shook as tears of joy, and relief escaped her eyes. Gibbs smiled and patted her on the shoulder once. "You got him, Detective," he said.

"He's right, Kate," Castle said, hugging her even tighter. "You did it, for her. You got the bastard."

By the end of the afternoon, both Alfred Markham and Cheryl Lefebvre had been processed and charged with the whole litany of charges, and they'd both been remanded to Riker's. The IRS had frozen all their bank accounts, and he'd ordered both held without bail. Assistant District Attorney Cutter had already informed the Judge of the State's intention to seek the death penalty for both of the Accused.

All in all, it had been a great day, certainly the best day in the last decade for one detective Katherine Beckett. She'd wept openly for ten solid minutes after the arrest, never once letting go of Castle, who'd certainly made no effort to let go of her. She almost couldn't believe the relief, the weight that had been lifted the moment she'd locked those cuffs on that lying bastard's wrists. It was over, finally.


	26. Chapter 26

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX – Wrap up**

Rick Castle was working away in the kitchen, cooking dinner for a large group. There was Alexis and Martha of course. Beckett, Esposito, Ryan and Montgomery were coming to celebrate the end of the case, and the fulfillment of Beckett's dream of putting away her mother's killers after ten years. It had been a big enough event that Martha had taken the night away from her play, allowing her stand-in a night of glory.

His mother was sitting on a stool at the counter, sipping at a glass of Shiraz while he and Alexis did the heavy lifting. He was making Steak Diane, and Caesar's Salad, with steamed vegetables and fresh sourdough rolls from Arrabieta's.

It was too early for them to be doing any actual cooking, so it was mostly prep work. Alexis washed and then tore the romaine lettuce, then wrapped it and popped it back in the crisper for later. She pulled down the large, wooden salad bowl from above the fridge, rinsed it and wiped it out. She dried it and set it aside on the counter for later.

Castle chopped a large portion of fresh shallots for the Steak Diane, wrapped them and put them away. He also had a demi-glace on the stove. Martha contributed by getting out a bottle of Harvey's Bristol Crème sherry and a bottle of Asbach, a strong German brandy he'd need later.

They talked while they worked, with Castle explaining to the women exactly what transpired on the case. He started with the theft of the money, and then moved on to the murders of Johanna Beckett and Theodore Warren. He told them how Coonan had killed both Hatten and Grayson when Bell had become suspicious that others on the team had learned of his thievery. That little tidbit had been supplied by Cheryl Lefebvre once they had her behind bars. The NYPD was searching the sewers in the area around Grand Central for Hatten's remains now.

He told them of their initial meeting with Gibbs and DiNozzo at the Fairmont Hotel, and of their visit to see Detective Russo the following day. He continued working as he talked, getting ten nice, thick fillet mignons out of the fridge on a large platter. His butcher, Pete, had butterflied each one. He'd premade a rub of salt, black pepper, and garlic powder. He rubbed a little bit, lightly, onto both sides of each fillet.

He told them about their trip to Washington and the trip Esposito took with Kate and Ziva to Miami, and about the discovery of the money trail that led them to the two brothers, about how that connection had led them to Colonel Bell and eventually to Markham and Lefebvre.

The doorbell rang and Alexis ran to let their guests in. Beckett was the first. In what was a definite change of pace from the Beckett they knew, she wore an ankle length black skirt which fit snugly over her hips, and a silky white blouse with the top two buttons undone, just enough for a peek of her black lacy bra to show. She had a belt of what appeared to be bronze links, and a pair of small, gold hoop earrings.

They welcomed her in, and got her settled on the stool next to Martha. Castle poured her a glass of the Shiraz before returning to his prep work. He was rinsing and cleaning two large pans, which he would use later to cook the steaks.

They caught Kate up on the conversation, and she smiled while she lisetened to Castle tell Martha and Alexis about the raid on Bell Defense Systems, and their trip to Albany. He was an excellent storyteller, something she well knew, and he was certainly doing himself proud with his rendition on this evening.

Ryan arrived next, followed shortly by Esposito and Montgomery. Once everyone was there and had a drink in hand, Alexis began setting the table. Kate and Ryan gave her a hand. Castle opened several more bottles of wine, both red and white.

It wasn't long before everyone was seated. He stood at the far end of the table and made quite a production out of making the Caesar's Salad. First he rubbed down the side of the bowl with minced garlic and some freshly ground black pepper, and then used a serving spoon to grind some anchovy fillets into a paste with the garlic. He added a generous portion of mayonnaise and some stone ground mustard, a bit of olive oil and red wine vinegar. After he added each ingredient, he'd mix everything thoroughly, making sure to coat the sides of the bowl. Alexis retrieved the romaine from the fridge for him and he dumped it in, making an even bigger show of tossing it until the leaves were well and evenly coated in Caesar dressing. He added in a generous portion of shredded parmesan and Romano cheese, and some homemade roasted garlic croutons, before serving out a plate for everyone.

The salad was delicious. It had a sharp bite that was stronger than Kate was used to from a Caesar Salad, but she found that she really liked it. However, between the anchovies and garlic, she figured she'd have dragon breath by the end of the meal. She smiled when she remembered that she'd bought a pack of gum the other day, and it was still in her purse.

While his guests worked on their salads, Castle got down to the job of fixing the steaks. He coated both pans with generous portions of butter, and lightly seared the steaks, first on one side, and then the other before removing them from the pans. He mixed the shallots in with the butter to brown, while he spread a very light coating of stone ground mustard on one side of each steak. After a minute or two, he put the steaks back in the pans, with the coated side down, allowing the mustard to sear into the side of the steak. He lightly coated the top sides, and then splashed a good bit of Asbach into each pan. He used a long-handled lighter to ignite the brandy in each pan, burning off the alcohol, but leaving the flavor. When each flame had gone out, he flipped the steaks, allowing the other side to sear in the mustard. He added his demi-glace and let it all cook for a moment, using the time to check that the veggies, a mixtures of snow peas, cauliflower, carrots, and green beans was nicely done. He poured a bit of the Harvey's Bristol Crème into each pan, and a little more Asbach, since the alcohol content of the sherry wasn't high enough to allow it to flame on its own. Alexis and Martha helped him serve as he filled each plate with a nice fillet and a generous portion of the Diane sauce, as well as a heaping pile of veggies, and a sourdough roll, hot from the oven.

The dinner went splendidly, capped off by a champagne toast, a bottle of Dom Perignon '71, to celebrate the closing of the case. The group spent another few hours talking, telling stories. Castle led the way in wildly inappropriate stories, which Alexis could have told the others in advance he would.

Montgomery was the first to leave, claiming that he needed to get home to his wife. He hugged Beckett one last time and congratulated her again on a job well done. Alexis was next, slipping upstairs to bed. Martha excused herself in order to put in an appearance at the wrap party for her play. Ryan and Esposito decided to head to Ryan's for an hour or so of video games, though Esposito reminded Ryan that he wouldn't sit on his "road kill couch".

That left Beckett and Castle alone together. She insisted on helping him with the dishes. He'd been adamant about holding off on doing them right after dinner. They laughed and flirted and bickered, like any other day. When they'd finished, they retired to the couch in the living room. Castle flipped on the television, but neither of them really wanted to watch, nor cared what was on.

After fifteen minutes of necking on the couch like a couple of teenagers, Kate took Castle's hand and led him toward the stairs. When he asked if she was sure, her only response was a smile. She couldn't think of a better way to end the best day she'd had in nearly ten years.

Booth walked into Brennan's lab at the Jeffersonian and flopped himself down on the couch just inside the door. "What's up, Bones?" he asked.

"Booth," she said, "you're back,"

"You don't miss a thing," he teased.

She smiled. "That's true," she agreed. "How did things go today?" He told her, including everything he knew about the case that NCIS and NYPD carried out when he wasn't around. She asked a number of pointed and insightful questions, which he answered as best he could.

"So they put the bad guys away, and solved at least three, no four murders in the process. I'd say that was good work."

"For them, and for you," Booth said. "You finding that sliver of Coonan's knife in the bone is what started them down the road. Nice job, Bones."

"Thanks, Booth," she said.

"You almost done here?" he asked.

"Yes, why?"

"I was thinking about getting a slice of pie. Wanna come?"

"Sure," she said. "Just give me five minutes to finish up here."

"You got it," he said. "I'm gonna go say hi to Cam. Come get me when you're ready."

Michael Westen and Sam Axe stepped off the SECNAV's private Gulfstream at Miami International Airport. They each had a small shoulder bag. They'd known in advance that they wouldn't need more than an extra day or two worth of clothes.

As they walked past baggage claim, they saw a pair of familiar faces, Sam's old FBI friends, Agents Harris and Lane were waiting by the exit doors.

"Michael Westen," Lane said.

"Don't you boys from the FBI have anything better you could be doing?" Michael asked. From where they were standing, he could see Fiona's Saab 9-3 idling at the curb outside.

"We're just here to remind you that, this little adventure today aside, you're supposed to keep your butt here, in Miami," Harris said.

"I was asked, by two government agencies, to make this trip," Michael said.

"We know," Harris replied. "We heard from Agents Gibbs and Fornell both."

"So, we'll be going then," Sam said, starting toward the door.

"Just don't leave again, we're just here to remind you is all," Lane said.

Michael smiled, giving them the full wattage, and said, "Thanks for the concern guys. And don't worry, I have no other travel plans." With that, he and Sam exited the building.

Fiona popped her trunk from her seat. The boys threw their bags inside and Michael closed the trunk while Sam climbed into the back seat. He joined them, and Fi couldn't resist a little jab at the FBI, peeling away from the curb. Michael and Sam both grinned.

Gibbs, Todd and David stepped off the elevator at NCIS. It was pushing nine pm. Dinozzo, McGee, Ducky and Abby were gathered around Tony's desk. Three large pizza boxes sat on Ziva's desk, and they were all laughing and enjoying a slice.

"Hey Boss," Tony said, seeing them approach. "Saw the announcement on ZNN. Did Detective Beckett enjoy arresting the Judge?"

"Oh yeah," Gibbs said, flipping open the lid of the top box and helping himself to a slice of pepperoni and sausage."

"There's a veggie combo in the bottom box, Kate," Abby said.

"Thanks, Abs."

Vance appeared at the top of the stairs. "Nice work. All of you," he said. "When you've finished your pizzas, go home. Get some rest. Take the day off tomorrow." He paused for a second, and then said, "You've earned it."

Gibbs looked to Vance, and then his team, and back to Vance. He nodded once, acknowledging that the Director was right. They had earned it. "Thanks, Leon," he said. Kate sat on the edge of his desk, next to him.

"Who's up for a movie tomorrow afternoon?" Dinozzo asked…

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That wraps up this little opus. I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I can't recall ever knocking out 160 pages in less than 20 days before. I'd like to say thank you to everyone who has reviewed, or sent PM's. They are a great source of feedback & interest. I'd also like to take another moment to thank my roommate JMAC, who helped conceive the basis for this story, and who supplied ideas for a number of interesting scenes. I did all the actual writing, and any mistakes found within are purely my own. I own none of the characters for NCIS, Castle, Burn Notice, Bones, or Law & Order, nor do I own any rights to any of these shows. Until next time, thanks again for reading, G


End file.
